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CHRISTIANITY . 

V 

GREEK PHILOSOPHY; 



OR, THE RELATION BETWEEN 

SPONTANEOUS AND REFLECTIVE THOUGHT IN GREECE 

AND THE POSITIVE TEACHING OF 

CHRIST AND HIS APOSTLES. 



By B. F. cocker, D.D., 

PROFESSOR OF MORAL AND MENTAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN. 



• Plato made me know the true God, Jesus Christ showed me the way to him. 

St. Augustine. 



c] 




NEW YORK: 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
1870. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 

Harper & Brothers, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Southern District of New York. 



/ ^^i 



TO 

D. D. WHEDON, D.D., 

MY EARLIEST LITERARY FRIEND, WHOSE VIGOROUS WRITINGS HAVE 

STIMULATED MY INQUIRIES, WHOSE COUNSELS HAVE GUIDED 

MY STUDIES, AND WHOSE KIND AND GENEROUS WORDS 

HAVE ENCOURAGED ME TO PERSEVERANCE 

AMID NUMEROUS DIFFICULTIES, 

I DEDICATE THIS VOLUME AS A TOKEN OF *MY MORE THAN 
ORDINARY AFFECTION. 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



IN preparing the present volume, the writer has been act- 
uated by a conscientious desire to deepen and vivify our 
faith in the Christian system of truth, by showing that it does 
not rest solely on a special class of facts, but upon all the facts 
of nature and humanity; that its authority does not repose 
alone on the peculiar and supernatural events which transpired 
in Palestine, but also on the still broader foundations of the 
ideas and laws of the reason, and the common wants and in- 
stinctive yearnings of the human heart. It is his conviction 
that the course and constitution of nature, the whole current 
of history, and the entire development of human thought in 
the ages anterior to the advent of the Redeemer centre in, and 
can only be interpreted by, the purpose of redemption. 

The method hitherto most prevalent, of treating the history 
of human thought as a series of isolated, disconnected, and 
lawless movements, without unity and purpose ; and the prac- 
tice of denouncing the religions and philosophies of the ancient 
world as inventions of satanic mischief, or as the capricious 
and wicked efforts of humanity to relegate itself from the bonds 
of allegiance to the One Supreme Lord and Lawgiver, have, in 
his judgment, been prejudicial to the interests of all truth, and 
especially injurious to the cause of Christianity. They betray 
an utter insensibility to the grand unities of nature and of 
thought, and a strange forgetfulness of that universal Provi- 
dence which comprehends all nature and all history, and is 
yet so minute in its regards that it numbers the hairs on every 



vi FEE FA CE. 

human head, and takes note of every sparrow's fall. A juster 
method will lead us to regard the entire history of human 
thought as a development towards a specific end, and the provi- 
dence of God as an all-embracing plan, which sweeps over all 
ages and all nations, and which, in its final consummation, will, 
through Christ, " gather together all things in one, both things 
which are in heaven and things which are on earth." 

The central and unifying thought of this volume is that the 
necessary ideas and laws of the reason^ and the native iiisthids 
of the humaft heart, originally implanted by God, are the primal 
and germinal forces of history ; a?td that these have been developed 
tmder co?iditions which were first ordained, and have been continu- 
ally supervised by the providence of God. God is the Father of 
humanity, and he is also the Guide and Educator of our race. 
As " the offspring of God," humanity is not a bare, indetermi- 
nate potentiality, but a living energy, an active reason, having 
definite qualities, and inheriting fundamental principles and 
necessary ideas which constitute it " the image and likeness of 
God." And though it has suffered a moral lapse, and, in the 
exercise of its freedom, has become alienated from the life of 
God, yet God has never abandoned the human race. He still 
"magnifies man, and sets his heart upon him." "He visits 
him every morning, and tries him every moment." "The in- 
spiration of the Almighty still gives him understanding." The 
illumination of the Divine Logos still "teacheth man knowl- 
edge." The Spirit of God still comes near to and touches 
with strong emotion every human heart. " God has never left 
himself without a witness " in any nation, or in any age. The 
providence of God has always guided the dispersions and mi- 
grations of the families of the earth, and presided over and 
directed the education of the race. " He has foreordained the 
times of each nation's existence, and fixed the geographical 
boundaries of their habitations, in order that they should seek 
the Lord, and feel after and find Him who is not far from any 
one of us." The religions of the ancient world were the pain- 
ful effort of the human spirit to return to its true rest and 



TEE FA CE. vii 

centre — the struggle to " find Him " who is so intimately near 
to every human heart, and who has never ceased to be the 
want of the human race. The philosophies of the ancient 
world were the earnest effort of human reason to reconcile the 
finite and the infinite, the human and the Divine, the subject 
and God. An overruling Providence, which makes even the 
wrath of man to praise Him, took up all these sincere, though 
often mistaken, efforts into his own plan, and made them sub- 
serve the purpose of redemption. They aided in developing 
among the nations " the desire of salvation," and in preparing 
the world for the advent of the Son of God. The entire course 
and history of Divine providence, in every nation, and in every 
age, has been directed towards the one grand purpose of "rec- 
onciling all things to Himself." Christianity, as a compre- 
hensive scheme of reconciliation, embracing " all things," can 
not, therefore, be properly studied apart from the ages of ear- 
nest thought, of profound inquiry, and of intense religious feel- 
ing which preceded it. To despise the religions of the ancient 
world, to sneer at the efforts and achievements of the old phi- 
losophers, or even to cut them off in thought from all relation 
to the plans and movements of that Providence which has 
cared for, and watched over, and pitied, and guided all the 
nations of the earth, is to refuse to comprehend Christianity 
itself. 

The author is not indifferent to the possibility that his pur- 
pose may be misconceived. The effort may be regarded by 
many conscientious and esteemed theologians with suspicion 
and mistrust. They can not easily emancipate themselves 
from the ancient prejudice against speculative thought. Phi- 
losophy has always been regarded by them as antagonistic to 
Christian faith. They are inspired by a commendable zeal for 
the honor of dogmatic theology. Every essay towards a pro- 
founder conviction, a broader faith in the unity of all truth, is 
branded with the opprobrious name of "rationalism." Let us 
not be terrified by a harmless word. Surely religion and right 
reason must be found in harmony. The author believes, with 



viii PREFACE. 

Bacon, that "the foundation of all religion is right reason." 
The abnegation of reason is not the evidence of faith, but the 
confession of despair. Sustained by these convictions, he 
submits this humble contribution to theological science to the 
thoughtful consideration of all lovers of Truth, and of Christ, 
the fountain of Truth. He can sincerely ask upon it the 
blessing of Him in whose fear it has been written, and whose 
cause it is the purpose of his life to serve. 

The second series, on " Christianity and Modern Thought," 
is in an advanced state of preparation for the press. 

Note. — It has been the aim of the writer, as far as the nature of the 
subject would permit, to adapt this work to general readers. The refer- 
ences to classic authors are, therefore, in all cases made to accessible Eng- 
lish translations (in Bohn's Classical Library) ; such changes, however, have 
been made in the rendering as shall present the doctrine of the writers in a 
dearer and more forcible manner. For valuable services rendered in this 
department of the work, by Martin L. D'Ooge, M. A., Acting Professor of 
Greek Language and Literature in the University of Michigan, the author 
would here express his grateful acknowledgment. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Athens, and the Men of Athens 13 

CHAPTER II. 
The Philosophy of Religion 53 

CHAPTER III. 
The Religion of the Athenians 98 



CHAPTER IV. 

The Religion of the Athenians : Its Mythological and Sym- 
bolical Aspects 128 



CHAPTER V. 
The Unknown God 165 

CHAPTER VI. 
The Unknown God {continued) 193 

IS GOD COGNIZABLE BY REASON? 

CHAPTER VII. 
The Unknown God {continued) 224 

IS GOD cognizable BY REASON? {continued). 

CHAPTER VIII. 
The Philosophers of Athens 265 

PRE-SOCRATIC SCHOOL. 

Sensational : Thales— Anaximenes— Heraclitus— Anaximander— 

Leucippus— Democritus. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IX. 

PAGE 

The Philosophers of Athens {continued) 295 

PRE-SOCRATIC SCHOOL {continued). 

Idealist: Pythagoras— Xenophanes—Parmenides—Zeno. Natural 
Realist: Anaxagoras. 

THE SOCRATIC SCHOOL. 

Socrates. 

CHAPTER X. 
The Philosophers of Athens {continued) 326 

THE SOCRATIC SCHOOL {contintied). 
Plato. 

CHAPTER XL 
The Philosophers of Athens {continued) 353 

THE SOCRATIC SCHOOL {continued). 
Plato. 

CHAPTER Xn. 
The Philosophers of Athens {continued) 388 

THE SOCRATIC SCHOOL {co7itinued). 
Aristotle. 

CHAPTER XHI. 
The Philosophers of Athens {continued) 422 

POST-SOCRATIC SCHOOL. 
Epicurus and Zeno. 

CHAPTER XIV. 
The Propedeutic Office of Greek Philosophy 457 

CHAPTER XV. 

The Propedeutic Office of Greek Philosophy {continued). . 495 



^'Ve men of Athens, all things which I behold bear witness to your care- 
fulness in religion ; for, as I passed through your city and beheld the ob- 
jects of your worship, I found amongst them an altar with this inscription, 
To THE Unknown God ; whom, therefore, ye worship, though ye know 
Him not, Him declare I unto you. God who made the world and all things 
therein, seeing He is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples 
made with hands ; neither is He served by the hands of men, as though he 
needed any thing ; for He giveth unto all life, and breath, and all things. 
And He made of one blood all the nations of mankind to dwell upon the face 
of the whole earth ; and ordained to each the appointed seasons of their ex- 
istence, and the bounds of their habitation, that they should seek God, if 
haply they might feel after Him and find Him, though he be not far from 
every one of us : for in Him we live, and move, and have our being ; as cer- 
tain of your own poets have said, For we are also His offspring. Forasmuch, 
then, as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the God- 
head is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by the art and device of 
man. Howbeit, those past times of ignorance God hath overlooked ; but now 
He commandeth all men everywhere to repent, because He hath appointed 
a day wherein He will judge the world in righteousness by that Man whom 
He hath ordained ; whereof He hath given assurance unto all, in that He 
hath raised Him from the dead." — Acts xvii. 22-31. 



CHRISTIANITY 

AND 

GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 



CHAPTER I. 

ATHENS, AND THE MEN OF ATHENS. 

" Is it not worth while, for the sake of the history of men and nations, to 
study the surface of the globe in its relation to the inhabitants thereof?" — 
Goethe. 

THERE is no event recorded in the annals of the early 
church so replete with interest to the Christian student? 
or which takes so deep a hold on the imagination, and the sym- 
pathies of him who is at all familiar with the history of An- 
cient Greece, as the one recited above. Here we see the Apos- 
tle Paul standing on the Areopagus at Athens, surrounded by 
the temples, statues, and altars, which Grecian art had conse- 
crated to Pagan worship, and proclaiming to the inquisitive 
Athenians, " the strangers " who had come to Athens for busi- 
ness or for pleasure, and the philosophers and students of the 
Lyceum, the Academy, the Stoa, and the Garden, ''^ the un- 
known God" 

Whether we dwell in our imagination on the artistic grand- 
eur and imposing magnificence of the city in which Paul 
found himself a solitary stranger, or recall the illustrious 
names which by their achievements in arts and philosophy 
have shed around the city of Athens an immortal glory, — or 
whether, fixing our attention on the lonely wanderer amid the 
porticoes, and groves, and temples of this classic city, we at- 



14 CHRISTIANITY AND 

tempt to conceive the emotion which stirred his heart as he 
beheld it " wholly given to idolatry ;" or whether we contrast 
the sftblime, majestic theism proclaimed by Paul with the de- 
grading polytheism and degenerate philosophy which then pre- 
vailed in Athens, or consider the prudent and sagacious man- 
ner in which the apostle conducts his argument in view of the 
religious opinions and prejudices of his audience, we can not 
but feel that this event is fraught with lessons of instruction to 
the Church in every age. 

That the objects which met the eye of Paul on every hand, 
and the opinions he heard everywhere expressed in Athens, 
must have exerted a powerful influence upon the current of his 
thoughts, as well as upon the state of his emotions, is a legiti- 
mate and natural presumption. Not only was "his spirit 
stirred widiin him" — his heart deeply moved and agitated 
when he saw the city wholly given to idolatry — but his thought- 
ful, philosophic mind would be engaged in pondering those 
deeply interesting questions which underlie the whole system 
of Grecian polytheism. The circumstances of the hour would, 
no doubt, in a large degree determine the line of argument, 
the form of his discourse, and the peculiarities of his phrase- 
ology. The more vividly, therefore, we can represent the 
scenes and realize the surrounding incidents ; the more thor- 
oughly we can enter into sympathy with the modes of thought 
and feeding peculiar to the Athenians ; the more perfectly we 
can comprehend the spirit and tendency of the age ; the more 
immediate our acquaintance with the religious opinions and 
philosophical ideas then prevalent in Athens, the more perfect 
will be our comprehension of the apostle's argument, the deep- 
er our interest in his theme. Some preliminary notices of 
Athens, and "the Men of Athens," will therefore be appropri- 
ate as introductory to a series of discourses on Paul's sermon 
on Mars' Hill. 

The peculiar connection that subsists between Geography 
and History, between a people and the country they inhabit, 
will justify the extension of our survey beyond the mere topog- 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY 15 

raphy of Athens. The people of the entire province of Attica 
were called Athenians ('A9?7vatot) in their relation to the state, 
and Attics (^AttlkoL) in regard to their manners, customs, and 
dialect.' The climate and the scenery, the forms of contour 
and relief, the geographical position and relations of Attica, 
and, indeed, of the whole peninsula of Greece, must be taken 
into our account if we would form a comprehensive judgment 
of the character of the Athenian people. 

The soil on which a people dwell, the air they breathe, the 
mountains and seas by which they are surrounded, the skies 
that overshadow them, — all these exert a powerful influence on 
their pursuits, their habits, their institutions, their sentiments, 
and their ideas. So that could we clearly group, and fully 
grasp all the characteristics of a region — its position, configu- 
ration, climate, scenery, and natural products, we could, with 
tolerable accuracy, determine what are the characteristics of 
the people who inhabit it. A comprehensive knowledge of the 
physical geography of any country will therefore aid us mate- 
rially in elucidating the natural history, and, to some extent, 
the moral history of its population. " History does not stand 
outside of nature, but in her very heart, so that the historian 
only grasps a people's character with true precision when he 
keeps in full view its geographical position, and the influences 
which its surroundings have wrought upon it."^ 

It is, however, of the utmost consequence the reader should 
understand that there are two widely different methods of treat- 
ing this deeply interesting subject — methods which proceed on 
fundamentally opposite views of man and of nature. One 
method is that pursued by Buckle in his " History of Civiliza- 
tion in England." The tendency of his work is the assertion 
of the supremacy of material conditions over the development 
of human history, and indeed of every individual mind. Here 
man is purely passive in the hands of riature. Exterior con- 
ditions are the chief, if not the only causes of man's intellectual 

* Niebuhr's "Lectures on Ethnography and Geography," p. 91. 
^ Ritter's " Geographical Studies," p. 34. 



1 6 CHRISTIANITY AND 

and social development. So that, such a climate and soil, 
such aspects of nature and local circumstances being given, 
such a nation necessarily follows.^ The other method is that 
of Carl Ritter, Arnold Guyot, and Cousin.^ These take ac- 
count of the freedom of the human will, and the power of man 
to control and modify the forces of nature. They also take ac- 
count of the original constitution of man, and the primitive type 
of nations ; and they allow for results arising from the mutual 
conflict of geographical conditions. And they, especially, rec- 
ognize the agency of a Divine Providence controlling those 
forces in nature by which the configuration of the earth's sur- 
face is determined, and the distribution of its oceans, conti- 
nents, and islands is secured ; and a providence, also, directing 
the dispersions and migrations of nations — determining the 
times of each nation's existence, and fixing the geographical 
bounds of their habitation, all in view of the moral history and 
spiritual development of the race, — " that they may feel after, 
and find the living God." The relation of man and nature is 
not, in their estimation, a relation of cause and effect. It is a 
relation of adjustment, of harmony, and of reciprocal action 
and reaction. " Man is not " — says Cousin — " an effect, and 
nature the cause, but there is between man and nature a man- 
ifest harmony of general laws." "Man and nature are two 

great effects which, coming from the same cause, bear the same 
characteristics ; so that the earth, and he who inhabits it, man 
and nature, are in perfect harmony."' God has created both 
man and the universe, and he has established between them a 
striking harmony. The earth was made for man ; not simply 
to supply his physical wants, but also to minister to his intel- 
lectual and moral development. The earth is not a mere 
dwelling-place of nations, but a school-house, in which God 
himself is superintending the education of the race. Hence 

' See chap. ii. " History of Civilization." 

" Ritter's " Geographical Studies ;" Guyot's " Earth and Man ;" Cousin's 
" History of Philosophy," lee. vii., viii., ix. 
^ Lectures, vol. i. pp. 162, 169. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 17 

we must not only study the evejits of history in their chronolog- 
ical order, but we must study the earth itself as the theatre of 
history. A knowledge of all the circumstances, both physical 
and moral, in the midst of which events take place, is absolute- 
ly necessary to a right judgment of the events themselves. 
And we can only elucidate properly the character of the actors 
by a careful study of all their geographical and ethological con- 
ditions. 

It will be readily perceived that, in attempting to estimate 
the influence which exterior conditions exert in the determina- 
tion of national character, we encounter peculiar difficulties. 
We can not in these studies expect the precision and accura- 
cy which is attained in the mathematical, or the purely physical 
sciences. We possess no control over the " materiel " of our 
inquiry ; we have no power of placing it in new conditions, and 
submitting it to the test of new experiments, as in the physical 
sciences. National character is a complex result — a product 
of the action and reaction of primary and secondary causes. 
It is a conjoint effect of the action of the primitive elements 
and laws originally implanted in humanity by the Creator, of 
the free causality and self-determining power of man, and of 
all the conditions, permanent and accidental, within which the 
national life has been developed. And in cases ^]\q,xq. physical 
and moral causes are blended, and reciprocally conditioned 
and modified in their operation ; — where primary results un- 
dergo endless modifications from the influence of surrounding 
circumstances, and the reaction of social and political institu- 
tions ; — and where each individual of the great aggregate 
wields a causal power that obeys no specific law, and by his 
own inherent power sets in motion new trains of causes which 
can not be reduced to statistics, we grant that we are in pos- 
session of no instrument of exact analysis by which the com- 
plex phenomena of national character may be reduced to prim- 
itive elements. All that we can hope is, to ascertain, by 
psychological analysis, what are the fundamental . ideas and 
laws of humanity ; to grasp the exterior conditions which are, 

2 



1 8 CHBISTIANITY AND 

on all hands, recognized as exerting a powerful influence upon 
national character ; to watch, under these lights, the manifesta- 
tions of human nature on the theatre of history, and then apply 
the principles of a sound historic criticism to the recorded 
opinions of contemporaneous historians and their immediate 
successors. In this manner we may expect, at least, to approx- 
imate to a true judgment of history. 

There are unquestionably fundamental powers and laws in 
human nature which have their development in the course of 
history. There are certain primitive ideas, imbedded in the 
constitution of each individual mind, which are revealed in the 
universal consciousness of our race, under the conditions of 
experience— the exterior conditions of physical nature and hu- 
man society. Such are the ideas of cause and substance ; of 
unity and infinity, which govern all the processes of discursive 
thought, and lead us to the recognition of Being m se; — such 
the ideas of right, of duty, of accountability, and of retribution, 
which regulate all the conceptions we form of our relations to 
all other moral beings, and constitute morality ; — such the ideas 
of order, of proportion, and of harmony, which preside in the 
realms of art, and constitute the beau-ideal of esthetics ; — such 
the ideas of God, the soul, and immortality, which rule in the 
domains of religiojt, and determine man a religious being. 
These constitute the identity of human nature under all cir- 
cumstances ; these characterize humanity in all conditions. 
Like permanent germs in vegetable life, always producing the 
same species of plants ; or like fundamental types in the ani- 
mal kingdom, securing the same homologous structures in all 
classes and orders ; so these fundamental ideas in human na- 
ture constitute its sameness and unity, under all the varying 
conditions of life and society. The acorn must produce an 
oak, and nothing else. The grain of wheat must always pro- 
duce its kind. The offspring of man must always bear his 
image, and always exhibit the same fundamental characteris- 
tics, not only in his corporeal nature, but also in his mental 
constitution. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 19 

But the germination of every seed depends on conditions ab 
extra, and all germs are modified, in their development, by ge- 
ographical and climatal surroundings. The development of 
the acorn into a mature and perfect oak greatly depends on the 
exterior conditions of soil, and moisture, light, and heat. By 
these it may be rendered luxuriant in its growth, or it may be 
stunted in its growth. It may barely exist under one class of 
conditions, or it may perish under another. The Brassica ole- 
racea, in its native habitat on the shore of the sea, is a bitter 
plant with wavy sea-green leaves ; in the cultivated garden it 
is the cauliflower. The single rose, under altered conditions, 
becomes a double rose ; and creepers rear their stalks and 
stand erect. Plants, which in a cold climate are annuals, be- 
come perennial when transported to the torrid zone.^ And so 
human nature, fundamentally the same under all circumstances, 
may be greatly modified, both physically and mentally, by geo- 
graphical, social, and political conditions. The corporeal na- 
ture of man — his complexion, his physiognomy, his stature ; 
the intellectual nature of man — his religious, ethical, and es- 
thetical ideas are all modified by his surroundings. These 
modifications, of which all men dwelling in the same geograph- 
ical regions, and under the same social and political institu- 
tions, partake, constitute the individuality of nations. Thus, 
whilst there is a fundamental basis of unity in the corporeal 
and spiritual nature of man, the causes of diversity are to be 
sought in the circumstances in which tribes and nations are 
placed in the overruling providence of God. 

The power which man exerts over material conditions, by 
virtue of his intelligence and freedom, is also an important ele- 
ment which, in these studies, we should not depreciate or ig- 
nore. We must accept, with all its consequences, the dictum 
of universal consciousness that man is free. He is not abso- 
lutely subject to, and moulded by nature. He has the power 
to control the circumstances by which he is surrounded — to 

^ See Carpenter's " Compar. Physiology," p. 625 ; Lyell's " Principles of 
Geology," pp. 588, 589. 



20 CHBISTIANIT7 AND 

originate new social and physical conditions — to determine his 
own individual and responsible character — and he can wield a 
mighty influence over the character of his fellow-men. Indi- 
vidual men, as Lycurgus, Solon, Pericles, Alexander, Caesar, 
and Napoleon have left the impress of their own mind and 
character upon the political institutions of nations, and, in an 
indirect manner, upon the character of succeeding generations 
of men. Homer, Plato, Cicero, Bacon, Kant, Locke, Newton, 
Shakspeare, Milton have left a deep and permanent impres- 
sion upon the forms of thought and speech, the language and 
literature, the science and philosophy of nations. And inas- 
much as a nation is the aggregate of individual beings endowed 
with spontaneity and freedom, we must grant that exterior con- 
ditions are not omnipotent in the formation of national char- 
acter. Still the free causality of man is exercised within a nar- 
row field. " There is a strictly necessitative limitation drawing 
an impassable boundary-line around the area of volitional free- 
dom." The human will "however subjectively free" is often 
"objectively unfree ;" thus a large "uniformity of volitions" is 
the natural consequence.^ The child born in the heart of Chi- 
na, whilst he may, in his personal freedom, develop such traits 
of character as constitute his individuality, must necessarily be 
conformed in his language, habits, modes of thought,, and re- 
ligious sentiments to the spirit of his country and age.' We no 
more expect a development of Christian thought and character 
in the centre of Africa, unvisited by Christian teaching, than 
we expect to find the climate and vegetation of New England. 
And we no more expect that a New England child shall be a 
Mohammedan, a Parsee, or a Buddhist, than that he shall have 
an Oriental physiognomy, and speak an Oriental language. 
Indeed it is impossible for a man to exist in human society 
without partaking in the spirit and manners of his country and 
his age. Thus all the individuals of a nation represent, in a 
greater or less degree, the spirit of the nation. They who 
do this most perfectly are the great men of that nation, because 
' See Dr. Wheedon's " Freedom of the Will," pp. 164, 165. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 21 

they are at once both the product and the impersonation of 
their country and their age. " We allow ourselves to think of 
Shakspeare, or of Raphael, or of Phidias as having accom- 
plished their work by the power of their individual genius, but 
greatness like theirs is never more than the highest degree of 
perfection which prevails widely around it, and forms the en- 
environment in which it grows. No such single mind in sin- 
gle contact with the facts of nature could have created a Pal- 
las, a Madonna, or a Lear ; such vast conceptions are the 
growth of ages, the creation of a nation's spirit ; and the artist 
and poet, filled full with the power of that spirit, but gave it 
form, and nothing but form. Nor would the form itself have 
been attained by any isolated talent. No genius can dispense 
with experience .... Noble conceptions already existing, and a 
noble school of execution which will launch mind and hand 
upon their true courses, are indispensable to transcendent ex- 
cellence. Shakspeare's plays were as much the offspring of 
the long generations who had pioneered the road for him, as 
the discoveries of Newton were the offspring of those of Coper- 
nicus."^ The principles here enounced apply with equal force 
to philosophers and men of science. The philosophy of Plato 
was but the ripened fruit of the pregnant thoughts and seminal 
utterances of his predecessors, — Socrates, Anaxagoras, and 
Pythagoras ; whilst all of them do but represent the general 
tendency and spirit of their country and their times. The 
principles of Lord Bacon's " Instauratio Magna " were incipient 
in the "Opus Majus" of Roger Bacon, the Franciscan friar. 
The sixteenth century matured the thought of the thirteenth 
century. The inductive method in scientific inquiry was imma- 
nent in the British mind, and the latter Bacon only gave to it 
a permanent form. It is true that great men have occasionally 
appeared on the stage of history who, like the reformers Luther 
and Wesley, have seemed to be in conflict with the prevailing 
spirit of their age and nation, but these men were the creations 
of a providence — that providence which, from time to time, has 
' Froude, " Hist, of England," pp. "jt,, 74, 



22 CHRISTIAN-ITY AND 

supernaturally interposed in the moral history of our race by 
corrective and remedial measures. These men were inspired 
and led by a spirit which descended from on high. And yet 
even they had their precursors and harbingers. Wyckliffe and 
John Huss, and Jerome of Prague are but the representatives 
of numbers whose names do not grace the historic page, who 
pioneered the way for Luther and the Reformation. And no 
one can read the history of that great movement of the six- 
teenth century without being persuaded there were thousands 
of Luther's predecessors and contemporaries who, like Stau- 
pitz and Erasmus, lamented the corruptions of the Church of 
Rome, and only needed the heroic courage of Luther to make 
them reformers also. AVhilst, therefore, we recognize a free 
causal power in man, by which he determines his individual 
and responsible character, we are compelled to recognize the 
general law, that national character is mainly the result of those 
geographical and ethological, and political and religious con- 
ditions in which the nations have been placed in the providence 
of God. 

Nations, like persons, have an Individuality. They present 
certain characteristic marks which constitute their proper iden- 
tity, and separate them from the surrounding nations of the 
earth ; such, for example, as complexion, physiognomy, lan- 
guage, pursuits, customs, institutions, sentiments, ideas. The 
individuality of a nation is determined mainly from without, and 
not, like human individuality, from within. The laws of a 
man's personal character have their home in the soul ; and the 
peculiarities and habits, and that conduct of life, which consti- 
tute his responsible character are, in a great degree, the conse- 
quence of his own free choice. But dwelling, as he does, in so- 
ciety, where he is continually influenced by the example and 
opinions of his neighbors ; subject, as he is, to the ceaseless 
influence of climate, scenery, and other terrestrial conditions, 
the characteristics which result from these relations, and which 
are common to all who dwell in the same regions, and under 
the same institutions, constitute a national individuality. In- 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 23 

dividual character is variable under the same general con- 
ditions, national character is uniform, because it results from 
causes which operate alike upon all individuals. 

Now, that man's complexion, his pursuits, his habits, his 
ideas are greatly modified by his geographical surroundings, is 
the most obvious of truths. No one doubts that the complex- 
ion of man is greatly affected by climatic conditions. The ap- 
pearance, habits, pursuits of the man who lives within the trop- 
ics must, necessarily, differ from those of the man who dwells 
within the temperate zone. No one expects that the dweller 
on the mountain will have the same characteristics as the man 
who resides on the plains ; or that he whose home is in the in- 
terior of a continent will have the same habits as the man 
whose home is on the islands of the sea. The denizen of the 
primeval forest will most naturally become a huntsman. The 
dweller on the extended plain, or fertile mountain slope, will 
lead a pastoral, or an agricultural life. Those who live on the 
margin of great rivers, or the borders of the sea, will " do busi- 
ness on the great waters." Commerce and navigation will be 
their chief pursuits. The people whose home is on the margin 
of the lake, or bay, or inland sea, or the thickly studded archi- 
pelago, are mostly fishermen. And then it is a no less obvi- 
ous truth that men's pursuits exert a moulding influence on 
their habits, their forms of speech, their sentiments, and their 
ideas. Let any one take pains to observe the pecuharities 
which characterize the huntsman, the shepherd, the agricultur- 
ist, or the fisherman, and he will be convinced that their occu- 
pations stamp the whole of their thoughts and feelings ; color 
all their conceptions of things outside their own peculiar field ; 
direct their simple philosophy of life ; and give a tone, even, to 
their religious emotions. 

The general aspects of nature, the 'climate and the scenery, 
exert an appreciable and an acknowledged influence on the 
mefital characteristics of a people. The sprightliness and vi- 
vacity of the Frank, the impetuosity of the Arab, the immobility 
of the Russ, the rugged sternness of the Scot, the repose and 



24 CHRISTIANITY AND 

dreaminess of the Hindoo are largely due to the country in 
which they dv/ell, the air they breathe, the food they eat, and 
the landscapes and skies they daily look upon. The nomadic 
Arab is not only indebted to the country in which he dwells for 
his habit of hunting for daily food, but for that love of a free, 
untrammelled life, and for those soaring dreams of fancy in 
which he so ardently delights. Not only is the Swiss deter- 
mined by the peculiarities of his geographical position to lead 
a pastoral life, but the climate, and mountain scenery, and 
bracing atmosphere inspire him with the love of liberty. The 
reserved and meditative Hindoo, accustomed to the profuse 
luxuriance of nature, borrows the fantastic ideas of his mythol- 
ogy from plants, and fiowers, and trees. The vastness and in- 
finite diversity of nature, the colossal magnitude of all the 
forms of animal and vegetable life, the broad and massive fea- 
tures of the landscape, the aspects of beauty and of terror which 
surround him, and daily pour their silent influences upon his 
soul, give vividness, grotesqueness, even, to his imagination, 
and repress his active powders. His mental character bears a 
peculiar and obvious relation to his geographical surroundings.^ 
The influence of external nature on the imagination — the 
creative faculty in man — is obvious and remarkable. It reveals 
itself in all the productions of man — his architecture, his 
sculpture, his painting, and his poetry. Oriental architecture 
is characterized by the boldness and massiveness of all its 
parts, and the monotonous uniformity of all its features. This 
is but the expression, in a material form, of that shadowy feel- 
ing of infinity, and unity, and immobility which an unbroken 
continent of vast deserts and continuous lofty mountain chains 
would naturally inspire. The simple grandeur and perfect har- 
mony and graceful blending of light and shade so peculiar to 
Grecian architecture are the product of a country whose area 
is diversified by the harmonious blending of land and water, 
mountain and plain, all bathed in purest light, and canopied 
with skies of serenest blue. And they are also the product of 
' Ritter, " Geograph. Studies," p. 287. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 25 

a country where man is released from the imprisonment within 
the magic circle of surrounding nature, and made conscious of 
his power and freedom. In Grecian architecture, therefore, 
there is less of the massiveness and immobility of nature, and 
more of the grace and dignity of man. It adds to the idea of 
permanence a vital expression. " The Doric column," says 
Vitruvius, "has the proportion, strength, and beauty of man." 
The Gothic architecture had its birthplace among a people who 
had lived and worshipped for ages amidst the dense forests of 
the north, and was no doubt an imitation of the interlacing of 
the overshadowing trees. The clustered shaft, and lancet 
arch, and flowing tracery, reflect the impression which the sur- 
rounding scenery had woven into the texture of the Teutonic 
mind. 

The history of painting and of sculpture will also show that 
the varied " styles of art " are largely the result of the aspects 
which external nature presented to the eye of man. Oriental 
sculpture, like its architecture, was characterized by massive- 
ness of form and tranquillity of expression ; and its painting 
was, at best, but colored sculpture. The most striking objects 
are colossal figures, in which the human form is strangely com- 
bined with the brute, as in the winged bulls of Nineveh and 
the sphinxes of Egypt Man is regarded simply as a part of 
nature, he does not rise above the plane of animal life. The 
soul has its immortality only in an eternal metempsychosis — a 
cycle of life which sweeps through all the brute creation. But 
in Grecian sculpture we have less of nature, more of man ; less 
of massiveness, more of grace and elegance ; less repose, and 
more of action. Now the connection between these styles of 
art, and the countries in which they were developed, is at once 
suggested to the thoughtful mind. 

And then, finally, the literature of a people equally reveals 
the impress of surrounding cosmical conditions. " The poems 
of Ossian are but the echo of the wild, rough, cloudy highlands 
of his Scottish home." The forest songs of the wild Indian, 
the negro's plaintive melodies in the rice-fields of Carolina, the 



26 CHRISTIANITY AND 

refrains in which the hunter of Kamtchatka relates his adven- 
tures with the polar bear, and in which the South Sea Islander 
celebrates his feats and dangers on the deep, all betoken the 
influence which the scenes of daily life exert upon the thoughts 
and feelings of our race. " To what an extent nature can ex- 
press herself in, and modify the culture of the individual, as 
well as of an entire people, can be seen on Ionian soil in the 
verse of Homer, which, called forth under the most favorable 
sky, and on the most luxuriant shore of the Grecian archipel- 
ago, not only charms us to-day, but bearing this impress, has 
determined what shall be the classic form throughout all coming 
time.'" 

In seeking, therefore, to determine correctly what are the 
characteristics of a nation, we must endeavor to trace how far 
the physical constitution of that people, their tem.perament, 
their habits, their sentiments, and their ideas have been formed, 
or modified, under the surrounding geographical conditions, 
which, as we have seen, greatly determine a nation's individ- 
uality. Guided by these lights, let us approach the study of 
^' the mm of At/wts" 

Attica^ of which Athens was the capital, and whose entire 
populations were called "Athenians," was the most important 
of all the Hellenic states. It is a triangular peninsula, the 
base of which is defined by the high mountain ranges'of Cithae- 

^ See Ritter, pp. 288, 289. Poetic art has unquestionably its geographical 
distributions like the fauna and flora of the globe. " If you love the images, 
not merely of a rich, but of a luxuriant fancy ; if you are pleased with the 
most daring flights ; if you would see a poetic creation full of wonders, then 
turn your eye to the poetry of the orient, where all forms appear in purple ; 
where each flower glows like the morning ray resting on the earth. But if, 
on the contrary, you prefer depth of thought, and earnestness of reflection ; 
if you delight in the colossal, yet pale forms, which float about in mist, and 
whisper of the mysteries of the spirit-land, and of the vanity of all things, ex- 
cept honor, then I must point you to the hoary north Or if you sympathize 

with that deep feeling, that longing of the soul, which does not linger on the 
earth, but evermore looks up to the azure tent of the stars, where happiness 
dwells, where the unquiet of the beating heart is still, then you must resort to 
the romantic poetry of the west.''^ — " Study of Greek Literature ^"^ Bishop 
Esaias Tegner, p. 38. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 27 

ron and Parnes, whilst the two other sides are washed by the 
sea, having their vertex at the promontory of Sunium, or Cape 
Colonna. The prolongation of the south-western line towards 
the north until it reaches the base at the foot of Mount Cithae- 
ron, served as the line of demarkation between the Athenian 
territory and the State of Megara. Thus Attica may be gen- 
erally described as bounded on the north-east by the channel 
of the Negropont -, on the south-west by the gulf of ^gina and 
part of Megara ; and on the north-west by the territory which 
formed. the ancient Boeotia, including within its limits an area 
of about 750 miles/ 

Hills of inferior elevation connect the mountain ranges of 
Cithaeron and Parnes with the mountainous surface of the south- 
east of the peninsula. These hills, commencing with the prom- 
ontory of Sunium itself, which forms the vertex of the triangle, 
rise gradually on the south-east to the round summit of Hymet- 
tus, and onward to the higher peak of Pentelicus, near Mara- 
thon, on the east. The rest of Attica is all a plain, one reach 
of which comes down to the sea on the south, at the very base 
of Hymettus. Here, about five miles from the shore, an abrupt 
rock rises from the plain, about 200 feet high, bordered on the 
south by lower eminences. That rock is the Acropolis. Those 
lower eminences are the Areopagus, the Pmyx, and the Muse- 
um. In the valley formed by these four hills we have the Ago- 
ra, and the varied undulations of these hills determine the fea- 
tures of the city of Athens." 

Nearly all writers on the topography of Athens derive their 
materials from Pausanias, who visited the city in the early part 
of the second century, and whose " Itinerary of Greece " is 
still extant.^ He entered the city by the Peiraic gate, the same 
gate at which Paul entered some sixty years before. We shall 
place ourselves under his guidance, and, so far as we are able, 

^ See art. " Attica," Encyc. Brit. 

^ See Conybeare and Howson's " Life and Epistles of St. Paul," vol. i. 
p. 346. 

^ The account here given of the topography of Athens is derived mainly 
from the article on " Athens " in the Encyc. Brit. 



2-8 UHJilSTIANITY AND 

follow the same course, supplying some omissions, as we go 
along, from other sources. On entering the city, the first build- 
ing which arrested the attention of Pausanias v/as the Pompei- 
um, so called because it was the depository of the sacred ves- 
sels, and also of the garments used in the annual procession 
in honor of Athena (Minerva), the tutelary deity of Athens, 
from whom the city derived its name. Near this edifice stood 
a temple of Demeter (Ceres), containing statues of that goddess, 
of her daughter Persephone, and of lacchus, all executed by 
Praxiteles ; and beyond were several porticoes leading from 
the city gates to the outer Ceramicus, while the intervening 
space was occupied by various temples, the Gymnasium of 
Hermes, and the house of Polytion, the most magnificent pri- 
vate residence in Athens. 

There were two places in Athens known by the name of 
Ceramicus, one without the walls, forming part of the suburbs ; 
and the other within the walls, embracing a very important 
section of the city. The outer Ceramicus was covered with 
the sepulchres of the Athenians who had been slain in battle, 
and buried at the public expense ; it communicated with the 
inner Ceramicus by the gate Dipylum. The Ceramicus within 
the city probably included the Agora, the Stoa Basileios, and 
the Stoa Poecile, besides various other temples and public 
buildings. 

Having fairly passed the city gates, a long street is before 
us with a colonnade or cloister on either hand ; and at the end 
of this street, by turning to the left, we might go through the 
whole Ceramicus to the open country, and the groves of the 
Academy. But we turn to the right, and enter the Agora, — 
" the market-place," as it is called in the English translation of 
the sacred narrative. 

We are not, however, to conceive of the market-place at 
Athens as bearing any resemblance to the bare, undecorated. 
spaces appropriated to business in our modern towns ; but 
rather as a magnificent public square, closed in by grand his- 
toric buildings, of the highest style of architecture ; planted 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 



29 



with palm-trees in graceful distribution, and adorned with 
statues of the great men of Athens and the deified heroes of 
her mythology, from the hands of the immortal masters of the 
plastic art. This " market-place " was the great centre of the 
public life of the Athenians, — the meeting-place of poets, ora- 
tors, statesmen, warriors, and philosophers, — a grand resort for 
leisure, for conversation, for business, and for news. Standing 
in the Agora, and looking towards the south, is the Museum^ 
so called because it was believed that Muscbus, the father of 
poetry, was buried there. Towards the north-west is the Fnyx, 
a sloping hill, partially levelled into an open area for- political 
assemblies. To the north is seen the craggy eminence of the 
Areopagus, and on the north-east is the Acropolis towering high 
above the scene, " the crown and glory of the whole." 

The most important buildings of the Agora are the Porti- 
coes or cloisters, the most remarkable of which are the Stoa 
Basileios, or Portico of the king ; the Stoa Eleutherius, or Por- 
tico of the Jupiter of Freedom ; and the Stoa Pcecile, or Paint- 
ed Porch. These Porticoes were covered v/alks, the roof being 
supported by columns, at least on one side, and by solid ma- 
sonry on the other. Such shaded walks are almost indispen- 
sable in the south of Europe, where the people live much in the 
open air, and they afford a grateful protection from the heat of 
the sun, as well as a shelter from the rain. Seats were also 
provided where the loungers might rest, and the philosophers 
and rhetoricians sit down for intellectual conversation. .The 
" Stoic " school of philosophy derived its name from the cir- 
cumstance that its founder, Zeno, used to meet and converse 
with his disciples under one of these porticoes, — the Stoa Pce- 
cile. These porticoes were not only built in the most magnif- 
icent style of architecture, but adorned with paintings and 
statuary by the best masters. On the roof of the Stoa Basileios 
were statues of Theseus and the Day. In front of the Stoa 
Eleutherius was placed, the divinity to whom it was dedicated ; 
and within were allegorical paintings, celebrating the rise of 
"the fierce democracy." The Stoa Pcecile derived its name 



30 CBBISTIANITT AND 

from the celebrated paintings which adorned its walls, and 
which were almost exclusively devoted to the representation of 
national subjects, as the contest of Theseus with the Amazons, 
the more glorious struggle at Marathon, and the other achieve- 
ments of the Athenians ] here also were suspended the shields 
of the Scionaeans of Thrace, together with those of the Lace- 
demonians, taken at the island of Sphacteria. 

It is beyond our purpose to describe all the public edifices, — 
the temples, gymnasia, and theatres which crowd the Ceramic 
area, and that portion of the city lying to the west and south 
of the Acropolis. Our object is, if possible, to convey to the 
reader some conception of the ancient splendor and magnifi- 
cence of Athens ; to revive the scenes amidst which the Athe- 
nians daily moved, and which may be presumed to have exerted 
a powerful influence upon the manners, the taste, the habits of 
thought, and the entire character of the Athenian people. To 
secure this object we need only direct attention to the Acrop- 
olis, which was crowded with the monuments ' of Athenian 
glory, and exhibited an amazing concentration of all that 
was most perfect in art, unsurpassed in excellence, and unrival- 
led in richness and splendor. It was " the peerless gem of 
Greece, the glory and pride of art, the wonder and envy of the 
world." 

The western side of the Acropolis, which furnished the only 
access to the summit of the hill, was about i68 feet in breadth ; 
an opening so narrow that, to the artists of Pericles, it appeared 
practicable to fill up the space w-ith a single building, which, in 
serving the purpose of a gateway to the Acropolis, should also 
contribute to adorn, as well as fortify the citadel. This work, 
the greatest achievement of civil architecture in Athens, which 
rivalled the Parthenon in felicity of execution, and surpassed it 
in boldness and originality of design, consisted of a grand cen- 
tral colonnade closed by projecting wings. This incomparable 
edifice, built of Pentelic marble, received the name of Propylaea 
from its forming the vestibule to the five-fold gates by which the 
citadel was entered. In front of the right wing there stood a 



OBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 31 

small Ionic temple of pure white marble, dedicated to Nike 
Apteros (Wingless Victory). 

A gigantic flight of steps conducted from the five-fold gates 
to the platform of the Acropolis, which was, in fact, one vast 
composition of architecture and sculpture dedicated to the na- 
tional glory. Here stood the Parthenon, or temple of the Vir- 
gin Goddess, the glorious temple which rose in the proudest 
period of Athenian history to the honor of Minerva, and which 
ages have only partially effaced. This magnificent temple, " by 
its united excellences of materials, design, and decoration, in- 
ternal as well as external, has been universally considered the 
most perfect which human genius ever planned and executed. 
Its dimensions were sufficiently large to produce an impression 
of grandeur and sublimity, which was not disturbed by any ob- 
trusive subdivision of parts j and, whether viewed at a small or 
greater distance, there was nothing to divert the mind of the 
spectator from contemplating the unity as well as majesty of 
mass and outline ; circumstances which form the first and most 
remarkable characteristic of every Greek temple erected during 
the purer ages of Grecian taste and genius.'" 

It would be impossible to convey any just and adequate 
conception of the artistic decorations of this wonderful edifice. 
The two pediments of the temple were decorated with magnifi- 
cent compositions of statuary, each consisting of about twenty 
entire figures of colossal size ; the one on the western pediment 
representing the birth of Minerva, and the other, on the eastern 
pediment, the contest between that goddess and Neptune for 
the possession of Attica. Under the outer cornice were ninety- 
two groups, raised in high relief from tablets about four feet 
square, representing the victories achieved by her companions. 
Round the inner frieze was presented the procession of the Par- 
thenon on the grand quinquennial festival of the Panathensea. 
The procession is represented as advancing in two parallel col- 
umns from west to east j one proceeding along the northern, 
the other along the southern side of the temple j part facing 
^ Leake's " Topography of Athens," p. 209 et seq. 



32 ■ CHRISTIANITY AND 

inward after turning the angle of the eastern front, and part 
meeting towards the centre of that front. 

The statue of the virgin goddess, the work of Phidias, stood 
in the eastern chamber of the cella, and was composed of ivory 
and gold. It had but one rival in the world, the Jupiter Olym- 
pus of the same famous artist. On the summit or apex of the 
helmet was placed a sphinx, with griffins on either side. The 
figure of the goddess was represented in an erect martial atti- 
tude, and clothed in a robe reaching to the feet. On the breast 
was a head of Medusa, wrought in ivory, and a figure of Victory 
about four cubits high. The goddess held a spear in her hand, 
and an aegis lay at her feet, while on her right, and near the 
spear, was a figure of a serpent, believed to represent that of 
Erichthonius. 

According to Pliny, the entire height of the statue was twen- 
ty-six cubits (about forty feet), and the artist, Phidias, had in- 
geniously contrived that the gold with which the statue was en- 
crusted might be removed at pleasure. The battle of the Cen- 
taurs and Lapithae was carved upon the sandals ; the battle of 
the Amazons was represented on the aegis which lay at her feet, 
and on the pedestal was sculptured the birth of Pandora. 

The temple of Erechtheus, the most ancient structure in 
Athens, stood on the northern side of the Acropolis. The 
statue of Zeus Polieus stood between the Propylaea and the 
Parthenon. The brazen colossus of Minerva, cast from the 
spoils of Marathon, appears to have occupied the space between 
the Erechtheium and the Propylaea, near the Pelasgic or north- 
ern wall. This statue of the tutelary divinity of Athens and 
Attica rose in gigantic proportions above all the buildings of 
the Acropolis, the flashing of whose helmet plumes met the 
sailor's eye as he approached from the Sunian promontory. 
And the remaining space of the wide area was literally crowd- 
ed with statuary, amongst which were Theseus contending with 
the Minotaur ; Hercules strangling the serpents ; the "Earth 
imploring showers from Jupiter ; and Minerva causing the olive 
to sprout, while Neptune raises the waves. After these works 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 2>o 

of art, it is needless to speak of others. It may be sufficient to 
state that Pausanias mentions by name towards three hundred 
remarkable statues which adorned this part of tl;e city even 
after it had been robbed and despoiled by its several conquer- 
ors. 

The Areopagus, or hill of Ares (Mars), so called, it is said, 
in consequence of that god having been the first person tried 
there for the crime of murder, was, beyond all doubt, the rocky 
height which is separated from the western end of the Acropo- 
lis by a hollow, forming a communication between the northern 
and southern divisions of the city. The court of the Areopagus 
was simply an open space on the highest summit of the hill, 
the judges sitting in the open air, on rude seats of stone, hewn 
out of the solid rock. Near to the spot on which the court was 
held was the sanctuary of the Furies, the avenging deities of 
Grecian mythology, whose presence gave additional solemnity 
to the scene. The place and the court were regarded by the 
people with superstitious reverence. 

This completes our survey of the principal buildings, monu- 
ments, and localities within the city of Athens. We do not im- 
agine we have succeeded in conveying any adequate idea of the 
ancient splendor and glory of this city, which was not only the 
capital of Attica, but also 

" The eye of Greece, mother of art and eloquence." 

We trust, however, that we have contributed somewhat towards 
awakening in the reader's mind a deeper interest in these classic 
scenes, and enabling him to appreciate, more vividly, the allu- 
sions we may hereafter make to them. 

The mere dry recital of geographical details, and topograph- 
ical notices is, however, of little interest in itself, and by itself. 
A tract of country derives its chief interest from its historic as- 
sociations — its immediate relations to man. The events which 
have transpired therein, the noble or ignoble deeds, the grand 
achievements, or the great disasters of which it has been the 
theatre, these constitute the living heart of its geography. Pal- 

3 



34 CHRISTIANITY AND 

estine has been rendered forever memorable, not by any re- 
markable peculiarities in its climate or scenery, but by the fact 
that it was .the home of God's ancient people — the Hebrews ; 
and still more, because the ardent imagination of the modern 
traveller still sees upon its mountains and plains the lingering 
footprints of the Son of God. And so Attica will always be 
regarded as a classic land, because it was the theatre of the 
most illustrious period of ancient history — t/ie period of youth- 
ful vigor in the life of humanity, when viewed as a grand organic 
whole. 

Here on a narrow spot of less superficies than the little 
State of Rhode Island there flourished a republic which, in the 
grandeur of her military and naval achievements, at Marathon, 
Thermopylae, Plataea, and Salamis, in the sublime creations of 
her painters, sculptors, and architects, and the unrivalled pro- 
ductions of her poets, orators, and philosophers, has left a lin- 
gering glory on the historic page, which twenty centuries have 
not been able to eclipse or dim. The names of Solon and 
Pericles ; of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle ; of Isocrates and 
Demosthenes ; of Myron, Phidias, and Praxiteles \ of Herodo- 
tus, Xenophon, and Thucydides ; of Sophocles and Euripides, 
have shed an undying lustre on Athens and Attica. 

How much of this universal renown, this imperishable glory 
attained by the Athenian people, is to be ascribed to their geo- 
graphical position and surroundings, and to the elastic, bracing 
air, the enchanting scenery, the glorious skies, which poured 
their daily inspiration on the Athenian mind, is a problem we 
may scarcely hope to solve. 

Of this, at least, we may be sure, that all these geographical 
and cosniical conditions were ordained by God, and ordained, 
also, for some noble and worthy end. That God, " the Father 
of all the families of the earth," cared for the Athenian people 
as much as for Jewish and Christian nations, we can not doubt. 
That they were the subjects of a Providence, and that, in God's 
great plan of human history, they had an important part to 
fulfill, we must believe. That God " determined the time of 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 



35 



each nation's existence, and fixed the geographical bounds of 
its habitation," is affirmed by Paul. And that the specific end 
for which the nation had its existence was fulfilled, we have the 
fullest confidence. So far ^ therefore^ as we can trace the relation 
that subsists betwecJt the geographical position and surroundi7igs 
of that nation, and its national characteristics and actual history, 
so far. are we able to solve the probletn of its destiny ; and by so 
much do we enlarge our comprehension of the plan of God in the 
history of our race. 

The geographical position of Greece was favorable to the 
freest commercial and maritime intercourse with the great his- 
toric nations — those nations most advanced in science, litera- 
ture, and art. Bounded on the west by the Adriatic and Ionian 
seas, by the Mediterranean on the south, and on the east by the 
^gean Sea, her populations enjoyed a free intercommunication 
with the Egyptians, Hebrews, Persians, Phoenicians, Romans, 
and Carthaginians. This peculiarity in the geographical po- 
sition of the Grecian peninsula could not fail to awaken in its 
people a taste for navigation, and lead them to active commer- 
cial intercourse with foreign nations.^ The boundless oceans 
on the south and east, the almost impassable mountains on the 
west and north of Asia, presented insurmountable obstacles to 
commercial intercourse. But the extended border-lands and 
narrow inland seas of Southern Europe allured man, in presence 
of their opposite shores, to the perpetual exchange of his pro- 
ductions. An arm of the sea is not a barrier, but rather a tie 
between the nations. Appearing to separate, it in reality draws 
them together without confounding them.'* On such a theatre 
we may expect that commerce will be developed on an exten- 
sive scale. ^ And, along with commerce, there will be increased 

* Humboldt's " Cosmos," vol. ii. p. 143. 

^ Cousin, vol. i. pp. 169, 170. 

^ The advantageous situation of Britain for commerce, and the nature of 
the climate have powerfully contributed to the perfection of industry among 
her population. Had she occupied a central, internal station, like that of 
Switzerland, the facilities of her people for dealing with others being so 
much the less, their progress would have been comparatively slow, and, in- 



36 CHRISTIANITY AND 

activity in all departments of productive industry, and an en- 
larged diffusion of knowledge. " Commerce," says Ritter, " is 
the great mover and combiner of the world's activities." And 
it also furnishes the channels through which flow the world's 
ideas. Commerce, both in a material and moral point of view, 
is the life of nations. Along with the ivory and ebony, the fab- 
rics and purple dyes, the wines and spices of the Syrian mer- 
chant, there flowed into Greece the science of numbers and 
of navigation, and the art of alphabetical writing from Phoenicia. 
Along with the fine wheat, and embroidered linen, and riches 
of the farther Indias which came from Egypt, there came, also, 
into Greece some knowledge of the sciences of astronomy and 
geometry, of architecture and mechanics, of medicine and 
chemistry ; together with the mystic wisdom of the distant 
Orient. The scattered rays of light which gleamed in the east- 
ern skies were thus converged in Greece, as on a focal point, 
Jo be rendered more brilliant by contact with the powerful Gre- 
cian intellect, and then diffused throughout the western world. 
Thus intercourse with surrounding nations, by commerce and 
travel, contact therewith by immigrations and colonizations, 
even collisions and invasions also, became, in the hands of a 
presiding Providence, the means of diffusing knowledge, of 
quickening and enlarging the active powers of man, and thus, 
ultimately, of a higher civilization. 

Then further, the peculiar configuration of Greece, the won- 
derful complexity of its coast-line, its peninsular forms, the num- 
ber of its islands, and the singular distribution of its mount- 
ains, all seem to mark it as the theatre of activity, of move- 
ment, of individuality, and of freedom. An extensive conti- 

stead of being highly improved, their manufactures would have been still in 
infancy. But being surrounded on all sides by the sea, that '* great highway 
of nations," they have been able to maintain an intercourse with the most re- 
mote as well as the nearest countries, to supply them on the easiest terms 
with their manufactures, and to profit by the peculiar products and capaci- 
ties of production possessed by other nations. To the geographical position 
and climate of Great Britain, her people are mainly indebted for their posi- 
tion as the first commercial nation on earth. — See art. " Manufactrues," p. 
277, Encyc. Brit. 



OREEK PHILOSOPHY. 37 

nent, unbroken by lakes and inland seas, as Asia, where vast 
deserts and high mountain chains separate the populations, is 
the seat of immobility.^ Commerce is limited to the bare ne- 
cessities of life, and there are no inducements to movement, to 
travel, and to enterprise. There are no conditions prompting 
man to attempt the conquest of nature. Society is therefore 
stationary as in China and India. Enfolded and imprisoned 
within the overpowering vastness and illimitable sweep of na- 
ture, man is almost unconscious of his freedom and his person- 
ality. He surrenders himself to the disposal of a mysterious 
^^fate" and yields readily to the despotic sway of superhuman 
powers. The State is consequently the reign of a single des- 
potic will. The laws of the Medes and Persians are unaltera- 
ble. But in Greece we have extended border-lands on the 
coast of navigable seas ; peninsulas elaborately articulated, and 
easy of access. We have mountains sufficiently elevated to 
shade the land and diversify the scenery, and yet of such a 
form as not to impede communication. They are usually 
placed neither in parallel " chains nor in massive groups, but 
are so disposed as to inclose extensive tracts of land admira- 
bly adapted to become the seats of small and independent 
communities, separated by natural boundaries, sometimes im- 
possible to overleap. The face of the interior country, — its 
forms of relief, seemed as though Providence designed, from 
the beginning, to keep its populations socially and politically 
disunited. These difficulties of internal transit by land were, 
however, counteracted by the large proportion of coast, and the 
accessibility of the country by sea. The promontories and in- 
dentations in the line of the Grecian coast are hardly less re- 
markable than the peculiar elevations and depressions of the 
surface. " The shape of Peloponnesus, with its three southern 
gulfs, the Argolic, Laconian, and Messenian, w^as compared by 
the ancient geographers to the leaf of a plane-tree : the Pa- 
gasaean gulf on the eastern side of Greece, and the Ambrakian 
gulf on the western, with their narrow entrances and consider- 
^ Cousin, vol. i. pp. 151, 170. 



38 CHRISTIANITY AND 

able area, are equivalent to internal lakes : Xenophon boasts 
of the double sea which embraces so large a portion of Attica ; 
Ephorus, of the triple sea by which Boeotia was accessible from 
west, north, and south — the Eubcean strait, opening a long line 
of country on both sides to coasting navigation. But the most 
important of all Grecian gulfs are the Corinthian and Saronic, 
washing the northern and north-eastern shores of Peloponne- 
sus, and separated by the narrow barrier of the Isthmus of 
Corinth. The former, especially, lays open ^tolia, Phokis, and 
Boeotia, as the whole northern coast of Peloponnesus, to water 
approach .... It will thus appear that there was no part of 
Greece proper which could be considered as out of the reach 
of the sea, whilst m'ost parts of it were easy of access. The sea 
was thus the sole channel for transmitting improvements and 
ideas as well as for maintaining sympathies " between the Hel- 
lenic tribes.^ The sea is not only the grand highway of com- 
mercial intercourse, but the empire of movement, of progress, 
and of freedom. Here man is set free from the bondage im- 
posed by the overpowering magnitude and vastness of continen- 
tal and oceanic forms. The boisterous and, apparently, lawless 
winds are made to obey his will. He mounts the sea as on a 
fiery steed and " lays his hand upon her mane." And whilst 
thus he succeeds, in any measure, to triumph over nature, he 
wakes to conscious power and freedom. It is in this region of 
contact and commingling of sea and land where man attains 
the highest superiority. Refreshing our historic recollections, 
and casting our eyes upon the map of the world, we can not 
fail to see that all the most highly civilized nations have lived, 
or still live, on the margin of the sea. 
• - The peculiar configuration of the territory of Greece, its 

■''' forms of relief, " so like, in many respects, to Switzerland," could 
not fail to exert a powerful influence on the character and des- 
tiny of its people. Its inclosing mountains materially in- 
creased their defensive power, and, at the same time, inspired 
them with the love of liberty. Those mountains, as we have 
* Grote's " Hist, of Greece," vol. ii. pp. 221, 225. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHT. 39 

seen, so unique in their distribution, were natural barriers 
against the invasion of foreign nations, and they rendered each 
separate community secure against the encroachments of the 
rest. The pass of Thermopylae, between Thessaly and Phocis ; 
that of Cithaeron, between Boeotia and Attica ; and the mount- 
ain ranges of Oneion and Geraneia, along the Isthmus of Cor- 
inth, were positions which could be defended against any force 
of invaders. This signal peculiarity in the forms of relief pro- 
tected each section of the Greeks from being conquered, and 
at the same time maintained their separate autonomy. The 
separate states of Greece lived, as it were, in the presence of 
each other, and at the same time resisted all influences and 
all efforts towards a coalescence with each other, until the time 
of Alexander. Their country, a word of indefinite meaning to 
the Asiatic, conveyed to them as definite an idea as that of their 
own homes. Its whole landscape, with all its historic associa- 
tions, its glorious monuments of heroic deeds, were perpetually 
present to their eyes. Thus their patriotism, concentrated 
within a narrow sphere, and kept alive by the sense of their in- 
dividual importance, their democratic spirit, ajid their struggles 
with surrounding communities to maintain their independence, 
became a strong and ruling passion. Their geographical sur- 
roundings had, therefore, a powerful influence upon their polit- 
ical institutions. Conquest, which forces nations of different 
habits, characters, and languages into unity, is at last the par- 
ent of degrading servitude. These nations are only held to- 
gether, as in the Roman empire, by the iron hand of military 
power. The despot, surrounded by a foreign soldiery, a.ppears 
in the conquered provinces, simply to enforce tribute, and com- 
pel obedience to his arbitrary will. But the small Greek com- 
munities, protected by the barriers of their seas and gulfs and 
mountains, escaped, for centuries, this evil destiny. The peo- 
ple, united by identity of language and manners and religion, 
by common interest and facile intercommunication, could read- 
ily combine to resist the invasions of foreign nations, as well as 
the encroachments of their own rulers. And they were able to 



40 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



easily model their own government according to their own ne- 
cessities and circumstances and common interests, and to make 
the end for which it existed the sole measure of the powers it 
was permitted to wield. ^ 

The soil of Attica was not the most favorable to agricultural 
pursuits. In many places it was stony and uneven, and a con- 
siderable proportion was bare rock, on which nothing could be 
grown. Not half the surface was capable of cultivation. In 
this respect it may be fitly compared to some of the New Eng- 
land States. The light, dry soil produced excellent barley, but 
not enough of wheat for their own consumption. Demosthenes 
informs us that Athens brought every year, from Byzantium, 
four hundred thousand medimni of wheat. The alluvial plains, 
under industrious cultivation, would furnish a frugal subsistence 
for a large population, and the mildness of the climate allowed 
all the more valuable products to ripen early, and go out of 
season last. Such conditions, of course, would furnish motives 
for skill and industry, and demand of the people frugal and 
temperate habits. The luxuriance of a tropical climate tends 
to improvidence and indolence. Where nature pours her full- 
ness into the lap of ease, forethought and providence are little 
needed. There is none of that struggle for existence which 
awakens sagacity, and calls into exercise the active powers of 
man. But in a country where nature only yields her fruits as 
the reward of toil, and yet enough to the intelligent culture of 
the soil, there habits of patient industry must be formed. The 
alternations of summer and winter excite to forethought and 
providence, and the comparative poverty of the soil will prompt 
to frugality. Man naturally aspires to improve his condition 
by all the means within his power. He becomes a careful ob- 
server of nature, he treasures up the results of observation, he 
compares one fact with another and notes their relations, and 
he makes new experiments to test his conclusions, and thus he 
awakes to the vigorous exercise of all his powers. These phys- 
ical conditions must develop a hardy, vigorous, prudent, and 
^ Encyc. Brit., art. " Greece." 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 41 

temperate race ; and such, unquestionably, were the Greeks. 
" Theophrastus, and other authors, amply attest the observant 
and industrious agriculture prevalent in Greece. The culture 
of the vine and olive appears to have been particularly elabo- 
rate ; and the many different accidents of soil, level, and expo- 
sure which were to be found, afforded to observant planters 
materials for study and comparison."^ The Greeks were fru- 
gal in their habits and simple in their modes of life. The bar- 
ley loaf seems to have been more generally eaten than the 
wheaten loaf ; this, with salt fish and vegetables, was the com- 
mon food of the population. Economy in domestic life was 
universal. In their manners, their dress, their private dwell- 
ings, they were little disposed to ostentation or display. 

The climate of Attica is what, in physical geography, would 
be called maritime. " Here are allied the continental vigor 
and oceanic softness, in a fortunate union, mutually tempering 
each other."^ The climate of the whole peninsula of Greece 
seems to be distinguished from that of Spain and Italy, by 
having more of the character of an inland region. The diver- 
sity of local temperature is greater j the extremes of summer 
and winter more severe. In Arcadia the snow has been found 
eighteen inches thick in January, with the thermometer at 16° 
Fahrenheit, and it sometimes lies on the ground for six weeks. 
The summits of the central chains of Pindus and most of the 
Albanian mountains are covered with snow from the beginning 
of November to the end of March. In Attica, which, being 
freely exposed to the sea, has in some measure an insular cli- 
mate, the winter sets in about the beginning of January. 
About the middle of that month the snow begins to fall, but 
seldom remains upon the plain for more than a few days, though 
it lies on the summit of the mountain for a month.^ And then, 
whilst Boeotia, which joins to Attica, is higher and colder, and 
often covered with dense fogs, Attica is remarkable for the 

^ Grote, " Hist, of Greece," vol. ii. p. 230. 
"^ Guyot, " Earth and Man," p. 181. 
^ Encyc. Brit, art. " Greece." 



42 CEBISTIANITY AND 

wonderful transparency, dryness, and elasticity of its atmos- 
phere. All these climatal conditions exerted, no doubt, a mod- 
ifying influence upon the character of the inhabitants.^ In a 
tropical climate man. is enfeebled by excessive heat. His nat- 
ural tendency is to inaction and repose. His life is passed in 
a " strenuous idleness." His intellectual, his reflective faculties 
are overmastered by his physical instincts. Passion, sentiment, 
imagination prevail over the sober exercises of his reasoning 
powers. Poetry universally predominates over philosophy. 
The whole character of Oriental language, religion, literature 
is intensely imaginative. In the frozen regions of the frigid 
zone, where a perpetual winter reigns, and where lichens and 
mosses are the only forms of vegetable life, man is condemned 
to the life of a huntsman, and depends mainly for his subsist- 
ence on the precarious chances of the chase. He is conse- 
quently nomadic in his habits, and barbarous withal. His 
whole life is spent in the bare process of procuring a living. 
He consumes a large amount of oleaginous food, and breathes 
a damp heavy atmosphere, and is, consequently, of a dull 
phlegmatic temperament. Notwithstanding his uncertain sup- 
pUes of food, he is recklessly improvident, and indiflerent to all 
the lessons of experience. Intellectual pursuits are all pre- 
cluded. There is no motive, no opportunity, and indeed no 
disposition for mental culture. But in a temperate climate 
man is stimulated to high mental activity. The alternations 
of heat and cold, of summer and of winter, an elastic, fresh, 
and bracing atmosphere, a diversity in the aspects of nature, 
these develop a vivacity of temperament, a quickness of sen- 
sibility as well as apprehension, and a versatility of feeling as 

^ The influence of climatic conditions did not escape the attention of 
the Greeks. Herodotus, Hippocrates, and Aristotle speak of the climate 
of Asia as more enervating than that of Greece. They regarded the change- 
ful character and diversity of local temperature in Greece as highly stimu- 
lating to the energies of the populations. The marked contrast between 
the Athenians and the Boeotians was supposed to be represented in the 
light and heavy atmosphere which they respectively breathed. — Groie, vol. 
ii. pp. 232-3. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 43 

well as genius. History marks out the temperate zone as the 
seat of the refined and cultivated nations. 

The natural scenery of Greece was of unrivalled grandeur — 
surpassing Italy, perhaps every country in the world. It com- 
bined in the highest degree every feature essential to the high- 
est beauty of a landscape except, perhaps, large rivers. But 
this was more than compensated for by the proximity of the 
sea, which, by its numerous arms, seemed to embrace the land 
on nearly every side. Its mountains, encircled with zones of 
wood, and capped with snow, though much lower than the Alps, 
are as imposing by the suddenness of their elevation — " pillars 
of heaven, the fosterers of enduring snows."^ Rich sheltered 
plains lie at their feet, covered with an unequally woven mantle 
of trees, and shrubs, and flowers, — " the verdant gloom of the 
thickly-mantling ivy, the narcissus steeped in heavenly dew, 
the golden-beaming crocus, the hardy and ever-fresh-sprouting 
olive-tree,'"^ and the luxuriant palm, which nourishes amid its 
branches the grape swelling with juice. But it is the combi- 
nation of these features, in the most diversified manner, with 
beautiful inland bays and seas, broken by headlands, inclosed 
by mountains, and studded with islands of every form and 
magnitude, which gives to the scenery of Greece its proud pre- 
eminence. " Greek scenery," says Humboldt, " presents the 
peculiar charm of an intimate blending of sea and land, of 
shores adorned with vegetation, or picturesquely girt with rocks 
gleaming in the light of aerial tints, and an ocean beautiful in 
the play of the ever-changing brightness of its deep-toned 
wave."^ And over all the serene, deep azure skies, occasion- 
ally veiled by light fleecy clouds, with vapory purple mists rest- 
ing on the distant mountain tops. This glorious scenery of 
Greece is evermore the admiration of the modern traveller. 
" In wandering about Athens on a sunny day in March, when 
the asphodels are blooming on Colones, when the immortal 
mountains are folded in a transparent haze, and the ^gean 

^ Pindar. ^ Sophocles, " CEdipus at Colonna." 

^ " Cosmos," vol. ii. p. 25. 



44 CHRISTIANITY AND 

slumbers afar among his isles," he is reminded of the lines of 
Byron penned amid these scenes — 

" Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; 
Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, 
Thine olives ripe as when Minerva smiled, 
And still his honeyed wealth Hymettus yields ; 
There the blithe bee his fiagrant fortress builds. 
The freeborn wanderer of the mountain air ; 
Apollo still thy long, long summer gilds. 
Still in his beams Mendeli's marbles glare ; 
Art, Glory, Freedom fail, but nature still is fair."* 

The effect of this scenery upon the character, the imagina- 
tion, the taste of the Athenians must have been immense. 
Under the influence of such sublime objects, the human mind 
becomes gifted as with inspiration, and is by nature filled with 
poetic images. " Greece became the birth-place of taste, of 
art, and eloquence, the chosen sanctuary of the muses, the pro- 
totype of all that is graceful, and dignified, and grand in senti- 
ment and action." 

And now, if we have succeeded in clearly presenting and 
properly grouping the facts, and in estimating the influence of 
geographical position and surroundings on national character, 
we have secured the natural criteria by which we examine, and 
even correct the portraiture of the Athenian character usually 
presented by the historian. 

The character of the Athenians has been sketched by Plu- 
tarch'^ with considerable minuteness, and his representations 
have been permitted, until of late years, to pass unchallenged. 
He has described them as at once passionate- and placable, 
easily moved to anger, and as easily appeased ; fond of pleas- 
antry and repartee, and heartily enjoying a laugh ; pleased to 
hear themselves praised, and yet not annoyed by criticism and 
censure ; naturally generous towards those who were poor and 
in humble circumstances, and humane even towards their ene- 
mies ; jealous of their liberties, and keeping even their rulers 
in awe. In regard to their intellectual traits, he affirms their 
* Canto ii., v. Ixxxvi., " Childe Harold." ^ " De Praecept." 



GBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 45 

minds were not formed for laborious research, and though they 
seized a subject as it were by intuition, yet wanted patience and 
perseverance for a thorough examination of all its bearings. 
" An observation," says the writer of the article on ^^ Attica" 
in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, " more superficial in itself, and 
arguing a greater ignorance of the Athenians, can not easily be 
imagined." Plutarch lived more than three hundred years 
after the palmy days of the Athenian Demos had passed away. 
He was a Boeotian by birth, not an Attic, and more of a Roman 
than a Greek in all his sympathies. We are tempted to regard 
him as writing under the influence of prejudice, if not of envy. 
He was scarcely reliable as a biographer, and as materials for 
history his " Parallel Lives " have been pronounced " not alto- 
gether trustworthy.^ 

That the Athenians were remarkable for the ardor and vi- 
vacity of their temperament, — that they were liable to sudden 
gusts of passion, — that they were inconstant in their affections, 
intolerant of dictation, impatient of control, and hasty to resent 
every assumption of superiority, — that they were pleased with 
flattery, and too ready to lend a willing ear to the adulation of 
the demagogue, — and that they were impetuous and brave, 
yet liable to be excessively elated by success, and depressed 
by misfortune, we may readily believe, because such traits of 
character are in perfect harmony with all the facts and conclu- 
sions already presented. Such characteristics were the natural 
product of the warm and genial sunlight, the elastic -bracing air, 
the ethereal skies, the glorious mountain scenery, and the elab- 
orate blending of sea and land, so peculiar to Greece and the 
whole of Southern Europe.^ These characteristics were shared 

^ Encyc. of Biog7'aphy, art. " Plutarch." 

^ "As the skies of Hellas surpassed nearly all other, climates in bright- 
ness and elasticity, so, also, had nature dealt most lovingly with the inhab- 
itants of this land. Throughout the whole being of the Greek there reigned 
supreme a quick susceptibility, out of which sprang a gladsome serenity of 
temper, and a keen enjoyment of life ; acute sense, and nimbleness of ap- 
prehension ; a guileless and child-like feeling, full of trust and faith, com- 
bined with prudence and forecast. These peculiarities lay so deeply imbed- 
ded in the inmost nature of the Greeks that no revolutions of time arid cir- 



46 CHRISTIANITY AND 

in a greater or less degree by all the nations of Southern Eu- 
rope in ancient times, and they are still distinctive traits in the 
Frenchman, the Italian, and the modern Greek. ^ 

The consciousness of power, the feeling of independence, 
the ardent love of freedom induced in the Athenian mind by 
the objective freedom of movement which his geographical po- 
sition afforded, and that subordination and subserviency of 
physical nature to man so peculiar to Greece, determined the 
democratic character of all their political institutions. And 
these institutions reacted upon the character of the people and 
intensified their love of liberty. This passionate love of per- 
sonal freedom, amounting almost to disease, excited them to a 
constant and almost distressing vigilance. And it is not to be 
wondered at if it displayed itself in an extreme jealousy of their 
rulers, an incessant supervision and criticism of all their pro- 
ceedings, and an intense and passionate hatred of t}Tants and 
of tyranny. The popular legislator or the successful soldier 
might dare to encroach upon their liberties in the moment 
when the nation was intoxicated and dazzled with their genius, 
their prowess, and success ; but a sudden revulsion of popular 
feeling, and an explosion of popular indignation, would over- 
turn the one, and ostracism expel the other. Thus while in- 
constancy, and turbulence, and faction seem to have been in- 
separable from the democratic spirit, the Athenians were cer- 
tainly constant in their love of liberty, faithful in their affection 
for their country,'* and invariable in their sympathy and admi- 

cumstances have yet been able to destroy them ; nay, it may be asserted 
that even now, after centuries of degradation, they have not been wholly ex- 
tinguished in the inhabitants of ancient Hellas." — '■^Education of the Moral 
Sentiment amongst the Ancient GreeksP By Frederick Jacobs, p. 320. 

^ These are described by the modern historian and traveller as lively, ver- 
satile, and witty. " The love of liberty and independence does not seem to 
be rooted out of the national character by centuries of subjugation. They 
love to command ; but though they are loyal to a good government, they 
are apt readily to rise when their rights and liberties are infringed. As 
there is little love of obedience among them, so neither is there any tolera- 
tion of aristocratic pretensions." — Eficyc. Brit., art. "Greece." 

' When immense bribes were offered by the king of Persia to induce the 
Athenians to detach themselves from the alliance with the rest of the Hel- 



GREEK FHILOSOPHY. 47. 

ration for that genius which shed glory upon their native land. 
And then they were ever ready to repair the errors, and make 
amends for the injustice committed under the influence of pas- 
sionate excitement, or the headlong impetuosity of their too ar- 
dent temperament. The history of Greece supplies numerous 
illustrations of this spirit. The sentence of death which had 
been hastily passed on the inhabitants of Mytilene was, on so- 
ber reflection, revoked the following day. The immediate re- 
pentance and general sorrow which followed the condemnation 
of the ten generals, as also of Socrates, are notable instances. 

In their private life the Athenians were courteous, generous, 
and humane. Whilst bold and free in the expression of their 
opinions, they paid the greatest attention to rules of politeness, 
and were nicely delicate on points of decorum. They had a 
natural sense of what was becoming and appropriate, and an 
innate aversion ta aU extravagance. A graceful demeanor and 
a quiet dignity were distinguishing traits of Athenian character. 
They were temperate and frugaP in their habits, and little ad- 
dicted to ostentation and display. Even after their victories had 
brought them into contact with Oriental luxury and extrava- 
gance, and their wealth enabled them to rival, in costliness and 
splendor, the nations they had conquered, they still maintained 
a republican simplicity. The private dwellings of the principal 
citizens were small, and usually built of clay ; their interior em- 
bellishments also were insignificant — the house -of Poly tion alone 
formed an exception.'* All their sumptuousness and magnifi- 
cence w^ere reserved for and lavished on their public edifices 

lenic States, she answered by the mouth of Aristides *' that it was impossi- 
ble for all the gold in the world to tempt the Republic of Athens, or prevail 
with it to sell its liberty and that of Greece !" 

^ These are still characteristics of the Greeks. " They are an exceed- 
ingly temperate people ; drunkenness is a vice remarkably rare amongst 
them ; their food also is spare and simple ; even the richest are content 
with a dish of vegetables for each meal, and the poor with a handful of olives 
or a piece of salt fish .All other pleasures are indulged with similar pro- 
priety ; their passions are moderate, and insanity is almost unknown amongst 
them." — Encyc. Brit, art. " Greece." 

"^ Niebuhr's Lectures, vol. i. p. loi. 



48 CHRISTIANITY AND 

and monuments of art, which made Athens the pride of Greece 
and the wonder of the world. Intellectually, the Athenians 
were remarkable for their quickness of apprehension, their nice 
and delicate perception, their intuitional power, and their ver- 
satile genius. Nor were they at all incapable of pursuing labo- 
rious researches, or wanting in persevering application and in- 
dustry, notwithstanding Plutarch's assertion to the contrary. 
The circumstances of every-day life in Attica, the conditions 
which surrounded the Athenian from childhood to age, were 
such as to call for the exercise of these qualities of mind in the 
highest degree. Habits of patient industry were induced in 
the Athenian character by the poverty and comparative barren- 
ness of the soil, demanding greater exertion to supply their 
natural wants. And an annual period of dormancy, though un- 
accompanied by the rigors of a northern winter, called for pru- 
dence in husbanding, and forethought and skill in endeavoring 
to increase their natural resources. The aspects of nature 
were less massive and awe-inspiring, her features more subdued, 
and her areas more circumscribed and broken, inviting and 
emboldening man to attempt her conquest. The whole tend- 
ency of natural phenomena in Greece was to restrain the im- 
agination, and discipline the observing and reasoning faculties 
in man. Thus was man inspired with confidence in his own 
resources, and allured to cherish an inquisitive, analytic, and 
scientific spirit. " The French, in point of national character, 
hold nearly the same relative place amongst the nations of Eu- 
rope that the Athenians held amongst the States of Ancient 
Greece." And whilst it is admitted the French are quick, 
sprightly, vivacious, perhaps sometimes light even to frivolity, it 
must be conceded they have cultivated the natural and exact 
sciences with a patience, and perseverance, and success un- 
surpassed by any of the nations of Europe. And so the Athe- 
nians were the Frenchmen of Greece. AVhilst they spent their 
"leisure time"^ in the place of public resort, the porticoes and 
groves, " hearing and telling the latest news " (no undignified 
* EuKaip'iw corresponds exactly to the Latin vacare, " to be at leisure." 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 49 

or improper mode of recreation in a city where newspapers 
were unknown), whilst they are condemned as "garrulous," 
" frivolous," " full of curiosity," and " restlessly fond of novel- 
ties," we must insist that a love of study, of patient thought 
and profound research, was congenial to their natural temper- 
ament, and that an inquisitive and analytic spirit, as well as a 
taste for subtile and abstract speculation, were inherent in the ' 
national character. The affluence, and fullness, and flexibility, 
and sculpture-like finish of the language of the Attics, which 
leaves far behind not only the languages of antiquity, but also 
the most cultivated of modern times, is an enduring monument 
of the patient industry of the Athenians.^ Language is un- 
questionably the highest creation of reason, and in the language 
of a nation we can see reflected as in a mirror the amount of 
culture to which it has attained. The rare balance of the im- 
agination and the reasoning powers, in which the perfection of 
the human intellect is regarded as consisting, the exact corre- 
spondence between the thought and the expression, "the free 
music of prosaic numbers in the most diversified forms of style," 
the calmness, and perspicuity, and order, even in the stormiest 
moments of inspiration, revealed in every department of Greek 
literature, were not a mere happy stroke of chance, but a prod- 
uct of unwearied effort — and effort too which was directed by 
the criteria which reason supplied. The plastic art of Greece, 
which after the lapse of ages still stands forth in unrivalled 
beauty, so that, in presence of the eternal models it created, 
the modern artist feels the painful lack of progress was not 
a spontaneous outburst of genius, but the result of intense 
application and unwearied discipline. The achievements of 
the philosophic spirit, the ethical and political systems of the 
Academy, the Lyceum, the Stoa, and the Garden, the anticipa- 
tions, scattered here and there like prophetic hints, of some of 
the profoundest discoveries of " inductive science " in more 
modern days, — all these are an enduring protest against the 
strange misrepresentations of Plutarch. 

' Frederick Jacobs, on " Study of Classic Antiquity," p. 57. 
4 



50 CHlilSTIANITY AND 

In Athens there existed a providential collocation of the 
most favorable conditions in which humanity can be placed for 
securing its highest natural development. Athenian civiliza- 
tion is the solution, on the theatre of history, of the problem — 
What degree of perfection can humanity, under the most favor- 
able conditions, attain, without the supernatural light, and 
"guidance, and grace of Christianity?^ "Like their ov/n god- 

* It has been asserted by some theological writers, Watson for example, 
that no society of civilized men has been, or can be constituted without the 
aid of a religion directly communicated by revelation, and transmitted by 
oral tradition ; — " that it is possible to raise a body of men into that degree 
of civil improvement which would excite the passion for philosophic inves- 
tigation, without the aid of religion can have no proof, and is contradict- 
ed by every fact and analogy with which we are acquainted " {Institutes, vol. 
i. p. 271 ; see also Archbishop Whately, *' Dissertation," etc., vol. i. Encyc. 
Brit., p. 449-455)- 

The fallacy of the reasoning by which this doctrine is sought to be sus- 
tained is found in the assumption "that to all our race the existence of a 
First Cause is a question of philosophy," and that the idea of God lies at 
the end of *' a gradual process of inquiry " and induction, for which a high 
degree of ** scientific culture " is needed. Whereas the idea of a First Cause 
lies at the beginning, not at the end of philosophy ; and philosophy is sim- 
ply the analysis of our natural consciousness of God, and the presentation of 
the idea in a logical form. Faith in the existence of God is not the result 
of a conscious process of reflection ; it is the spontaneous and instinctive 
logic of the human mind, which, in view of phenomena presented to sense, 
by a necessary law of thought immediately and intuitively affirms a personal 
Power, an intelligent Mind as the author. In this regard, there is no differ- 
ence between men except the clearness with which they apprehend, and the 
logical account they can render to themselves, of this instinctive belief 
Spontaneous intuition, says Cousin, is the genius of all men ; reflection the 
genius of few men. " But Leibnitz had no more confidence in the principle 
of causality, and even in his favorite principle of sufficient reason, than the 
most ignorant of men ;" the latter have this principle within them, as a law 
of thought, controlling their conception of the universe, and doing this al- 
most unconsciously ; the former, by an analysis of thought, succeeded in de- 
fining and formulating the ideas and laws which necessitate the cognition of 
a God. The function of philosophy is simply to transform a>,rfiriQ, do^a into 
kTriaTT^fiTj — right opinion into science, — to elucidate and logically present the 
immanent thought which lies in the universal consciousness of man. 

That the possession of the idea of God is essential to the social and moral 
elevation of man, — that is, to the civilization of our race, is most cheerfully 
conceded. That humanity has an end and destination which can only be 
secured by the true knowledge of God, and by a participation of the nature 
of God, is equally the doctrine of Plato and of Christ. Now, if humanity 
has a special end and destination, it must have some instinctive tendings, 



QBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 5 1 

dess Athene, the people of Athens seem to spring full-armed 
into the arena of history, and we look in vain to Egypt, Syria, 
and India, for more than a few seeds that burst into such mar- 
vellous growth on the soil of Attica."^ 

Here the most perfect ideals of beauty and excellence in 
physical development, in manners, in plastic art, in literary 
creations, were realized. The songs of Homer, the dialogues 
of Plato, the speeches of Demosthenes, and the statues of Phid- 
ias, if not unrivalled, are at least unsurpassed by any thing that 
has been achieved by their successors. Literature in its most 
flourishing periods has rekindled its torch at her altars, and art 
has looked back to the age of Pericles for her purest models. 
Here the ideas of personal liberty, of individual rights, of free- 
dom in thought and action, had a wonderful expansion. Here 
the lasting foundations of the principal arts and sciences were 
laid, and in some of them triumphs were achieved which have 
not been eclipsed. Here the sun of human reason attained a 
meridian splendor, and illuminated eveiy field in the domain 
of moral truth. And here humanity reached the highest degree 
of civilization of which it is capable under purely natural con- 
ditions. 

And now, the question with which we are more immediately 
concerned is, what were the specific and valuable results at- 
tained by the Athenian mind in religion and philosophy, the two 
momenta of the human mind ? This will be the subject of dis- 
cussion in subsequent chapters. 

The order in which the discussion shall proceed is deter- 
mined for us by the natural development of thought. The two 
fundamental momenta of thought and its development are spon- 

some spermatic ideas, some original forces or laws, which determine it to- 
wards that end. All development supposes some original elements to be 
unfolded or developed. Civilization is but the development of humanity ac- 
cording to its primal idea and law, and under the best exterior conditions. 
That the original elements of humanity were unfolded in some noble degree 
under the influence of philosophy is clear from the history of Greece ; there 
the most favorable natural conditions for that development existed, and 
Christianity alone was needed to crown the result with ideal perfection. 
^ Max Miiller, " Science of Language," p. 404, 2d series. 



52 CHRISTIANITY AND 

taneity and reflection, and the two essential forms the)^ assume 
are religion and philosophy. In the natural order of thought 
spontaneity is first, and reflection succeeds spontaneous thought. 
And so religion is first developed, and subsequently comes phi- 
losophy. As religion supposes spontaneous intuition, so phi- 
losophy has religion for its basis, but upon this basis it is devel- 
oped in an original manner. " Turn your attention to history, 
that living image of thought : everywhere you perceive religions 
and philosophies : everywhere you see them produced in an in- 
variable order. Everywhere religion appears with new socie- 
ties, and everywhere, just so far as societies advance, from re- 
ligion springs philosophy.'" This was pre-eminently the case 
in Athens, and we shall therefore direct our attention first to 
the Religion of the Athenians. 

^ Cousin, " Hist, of Philos.," vol. i. p. 302. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 53 



CHAPTER II. 

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 

" All things which I behold bear witness to your carefulness in religion 
{SeiacdacfioveaTepovg. — St. Paul. 

AS a prelude and preparation for the study of the religion 
of the Athenians, it may be well to consider religion in its 
more abstract and universal form ; and inquire in what does 
religion essentially consist ; how far is it grounded in the na- 
ture of man ; and especially, what is there in the mental con- 
stitution of man, or in his exterior conditions, which determines 
him to a mode of hfe which may be denominated religious .? 
As a preliminary inquiry, this may materially aid us in under- 
standing the nature, and estimating the value of the religious 
conceptions and sentiments which were developed by the Greek 
mind. 

Religion, in its most generic conception, may be defined as 
a form of thought, feeling, and action, which has the Divine for 
its object, basis, and end. Or, in other words, it is a mode of 
life determined by the recognition of some relation to, and con- 
sciousness of dependence upon, a Supreme Being. This gen- 
eral conception of religion underlies all the specific forms of 
religion which have appeared in the world, whether heathen, 
Jewish, Mohammedan, or Christian. 

That a religious destination appertains to man as man, 
whether he has been raised to a full religious consciousness, or 
is simply considered as capable of being so raised, can not be 
denied. In all ages man has revealed an instinctive tendency, 
or natural aptitude for religion, and he has developed feelings 
and emotions which have always characterized him as a re- 
ligious being. Religious ideas and sentiments have prevailed 
among all nations, and have exerted a powerful influence on 



54 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



the entire course of human history. Religious worship, ad- 
dressed to a Supreme Being believed to cpntrol the destiny of 
•man, has been coeval and coextensive with the race. Every 
nation has had its mythology, and each mythologic system has 
been simply an effort of humanity to realize and embody in 
some visible form the relations in which it feels itself to be 
connected with an external, overshadowing, and all-controlling 
Power and Presence. The voice of all ancient, and all con- 
temporaneous history, clearly attests that the religious principle 
is deeply seated in the nature of man ; and that it has occupied 
the thought, and stirred the feelings of every rational man, in 
every age. It has interwoven itself with the entire framework 
of human society, and ramified into all the relations of human 
life. By its agency, nations have been revolutionized, and em- 
pires have been overthrown • and it has formed a mighty ele- 
ment in all the changes which have marked the history of man. 

This universality of religious sentiment and religious wor- 
ship must be conceded as a fact of human nature, and, as a 
universal fact, it demands an explanation. Every event must 
have a cause. Every phenomenon must have its ground, and 
reason, and law. The facts of religious history, the past and 
present religious phenomena of the world can be no exception 
to this fundamental principle ; they press their imperious de- 
mand to be studied and explained, as much as the phenomena 
of the material or the events of the moral world. The phe- 
nomena of religion, being universally revealed wherever man 
is found, must be grounded in some universal principle, on 
some original law, which is connate with, and natural to man. 
At any rate, there must be something in the nature of man, or 
in the exterior conditions of humanity, which invariably leads 
man to worship, and which determines him, as by the force of 
an original instinct, or an outward, conditioning necessity, to 
recognize and bow down before a Superior Power. The full 
recognition and adequate explanation of the facts of religious 
history will constitute 2i philosophy of religion. 

The hypotheses which have been offered in explanation of 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 55 

the religious phenomena of the world are widely divergent, and 
most of them are, in our judgment, eminently inadequate and 
unsatisfactory. The following enumeration may be regarded 
as embracing all that are deemed worthy of consideration. 

I. The phenomenon of religion had its origin in super- 
stition, that is, in 2^ fear of invisible and supernatural powers, 
generated by ignorance of nature. 

II. The phenomenon of religion is part of that process or 
EVOLUTION OF THE ABSOLUTE (/. e., the Deity), which gradually 
unfolding itself in nature, mind, history, and religion, attains to 
perfect self-consciousness in philosophy. 

III. The phenomenon of religion has its foundation in feel- 
ing — the feeling of depejidence ai2d of obligation ; and that to 
which the mind, by spontaneous intuition or instinctive faith, 
traces this dependence and obligation we call God. 

IV. The phenomenon of religion had its outbirth in the 
spontaneous apperceptions of reason, that is, the necessary d, 
priori ideas of the Ififnite, the Perfect, the Unconditioned Cause, 
the Eternal Being, which are evoked into consciousness in pres- 
ence of the changeful and contingent phenomena of the world. 

V. The phenomenon of religion had its origin in external 
REVELATION, to which rcason is related as a purely passive or- 
gan, and heathenism as a feeble relic. 

As a philosophy of religion — an attempt to supply the ra- 
tionale of the religious phenomena of the world, the first hy- 
pothesis is a skeptical philosophy, which necessarily leads to 
Atheism. The second is an idealistic philosophy (absolute 
idealism), which inevitably lands in Pantheism. The "third is 
an intuitional or " faith-philosophy," which finally ends in Mys- 
ticism. The fourth is a rationalistic or " spiritualistic " philos- 
ophy, which yields pure Theism. The last is an empirical phi- 
losophy, which derives all religion from instruction, and culmi- 
nates in Dogmatic Theology. 

In view of these diverse and conflicting theories, the ques- 
tion which now presents itself for our consideration is, — does 
any one of these hypotheses meet and satisfy the demands of 



56 CHRISTIANITY AND 

the problem ? does it fully account for and adequately explain 
all the facts of religious history ? The answer to this question 
must not be hastily or dogmatically given. The arbitrary re- 
jection of any theory that may be offered, without a fair and 
candid examination, will leave our minds in uncertainty and 
doubt as to the validity of our own position. A blind faith is 
only one remove from a pusillanimous skepticism. We can 
not render our own position secure except by comprehending, 
assaulting, and capturing the position of our foe. It is, there- 
fore, due to ourselves and to the cause of truth, that we shall 
examine the evidence upon which each separate theory is based, 
and the arguments which are marshalled in its support, be- 
fore we pronounce it inadequate and unphilosophical. Such 
a criticism of opposite theories- will prepare the way for the 
presentation of a philosophy of religion which we flatter our- 
selves will be found most in harmony with all the facts of the 
case. 

I. If is affirmed that the religious phenomena of the world had 
their origin in superstition, that is, in a fear of unseen and su- 
pernatural powers, generated from ignorance of nature. 

This explanation was first offered by Epicurus. He felt 
that the universality of the religious sentiment is a fact which 
demands a cause ; and he found it, or presumed he found it, 
not in a spiritual God, which he claims can not exist, nor in a 
corporeal god which no one has seen, but in "phantoms of the 
mind generated by fear.'^ AVhen man has been unable to ex- 
plain any natural phenomenon, to assign a cause within the 
sphere of nature, he has had recourse to supernatural powers, 
or living personalities behind nature, which move and control 
nature in an arbitrary and capricious manner. These imagina- 
ry powers are supposed to be continually interfering in the af- 
fairs of individuals and nations. They bestow blessings or in- 
flict calamities. They reward virtue and punish vice. They 
are, therefore, the objects of "sacred awe" and "superstitious 
fear." 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 57 

"Whate'er in heaven, 
In earth, man sees mysterious, shakes his mind, 
"With sacred awe o'erwhelms him, and his soul 
Bows to the dust ; the cause of things concealed 
Once from his vision, instant to the gods 
All empire he transfers, all rule supreme, 
And doubtful whence they spring, with headlong haste 
Calls them the workmanship of power divine. 
For he who, justly, deems the Immortals live 
Safe, and at ease, yet fluctuates in his mind 
How things are swayed ; how, chiefly, those discerned 
In heaven sublime — to superstition back 
Lapses, and rears a tyrant host, and then 
Conceives, dull reasoner, they can all things do, 
While yet himself nor knows what may be done. 
Nor what may never, nature powers defined 
Stamping on all, and bounds that none can pass : 
Hence wide, and wider errs he as he walks."^ 

In order to rid men of all superstitious fear, and, conse- 
quently, of all religion, Epicurus endeavors to show that " na- 
ture " alone is adequate to the production of all things, and 
there is no need to drag in a " divine power " to explain the 
phenomena of the world. 

This theory has been wroug'ht into a somewhat plausible 
form by the brilliant and imposing generahzations of Aug. 
Comte. The religious phenomena of the world are simply one 
stage in the necessary development of mind, whether in the in- 
dividual or the race. He claims to have been the first to dis- 
cover the great law of the three successive stages or phases of 
human evolution. That law is thus enounced. Both in the 
individual mind, and in the history of humanity, thought, in 
dealing with its problems, passes, of necessity, through, first, a 
Theological, second, a Metaphysical, and finally reaches a third, 
or Positive stage. 

In attempting an explanation of the universe, human 
thought, in its earliest stages of development, resorts to the 
idea of living personal agents enshrined in and moving every 
object, whethei organic or inorganic, natural or artificial. In 
an advanced stage, it conceives a number of personal beings 
^ Lucretius, " De Natura Rerum," book vi. vs. 50-70. 



58 CHRISTIANITY AND 

distinct from, and superior to nature, which preside over the 
different provinces of nature — the sea, the air, the winds, the 
rivers, the heavenly bodies, and assume the guardianship of in- 
dividuals, tribes, and nations. As a further, and still higher 
stage, it asserts the unity of the Supreme Power which moves 
and vitalizes the universe, and guides and governs in the affairs 
of men and nations. The Theological stage is thus subdivided 
into three epochs, and represented as commencing in Fefichism, 
then advancing to Polytheism^ and, finally, consummating in 
Monotheism. 

The next stage, the Metaphysical, is a transitional stage, in 
which man substitutes abstract entities, as substance, force. 
Being in se, the Infinite, the Absolute, in the place of theologi- 
cal conceptions. During this period all theological opinions 
undergo a process of disintegration, and lose their hold on 
the mind of man. Metaphysical speculation is a powerful sol- 
vent, which decomposes and dissipates theology. 

It is only in the last — the Positive stage— that man becomes 
willing to relinquish all theological ideas and metaphysical no- 
tions, and confine his attention to the study of phenomena in 
their relation to time and space ; discarding all inquiries as to 
causes, whether efficient or final, and denying the existence of 
all entities and powers beyond nature. 

The first stage, in its religious phase, is Tlieistic, the second 
is Pantheistic, the last is Atheistic. 

The proofs offered by Comte in support of this theory are 
derived, 

I. From Cerebral Organization. There are three grand di- 
visions of the Brain, the Medulla Oblongata, the Cerebellum, 
and the Cerebrum ; the first represents the merely animal in- 
stincts ; the second, the more elevated sentiments ; the third, 
the intellectual powers. Human nature must, therefore, both 
in the individual and in the race, be developed in the following 
order: (i.) in animal instincts; (2.) in social affections and 
communal tendencies ; (3.) in intellectual pursuits. Infant life 
is a merely animal existence, shared in common with the brute ; 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 59 

in childhood the individual being realizes his relation to exter- 
nal nature and human society j in youth and manhood he com- 
pares, generalizes, and classifies the objects of knowledge, and 
attains to science. And so the infancy of our race was a mere 
animal or savage state, the childhood of our race the organiza- 
tion of society, the youth and manhood of our race the devel- 
opment of science. 

Now, without oftering any opinion as to the merits of the 
phrenological theories of Gall and Spurzheim, we may. ask, 
what relation has this order to the law of development present- 
ed by Comte? Is there any imaginable connection between 
animal propensities and theological ideas ; between social af- 
fections and metaphysical speculations ? Are not the intellect- 
ual powers as much concerned with theological ideas and met- 
aphysical speculations as with positive science ? And is it not 
more probable, more in accordance with facts, that all the pow- 
ers of the mind, instinct, feeling, and thought, enter into action 
simultaneously, and condition each other? The very first act 
of perception, the first distinct cognition of an object, involves 
thought as much as the last generalization of science. We 
know nothing of mind except as the development of thought, 
and the first unfolding, even of the infant mind, reveals an in- 
tellectual act, a discrimination between a self and an object 
which is not self, and a recognition of resemblance, or differ- 
ence between this object and that. And what does Positive 
science, in its most mature and perfect form, claim to do more 
than "to study actual phenomena in their orders of resem- 
blance, coexistence, and succession." 

Cerebral organization may furnish plausible analogies in fa- 
vor of some theory of human development, but certainly not 
the one proposed by Aug. Comte. The attempt, however, to 
construct a chart of human history on such an d priori meth- 
od, — to construct an ideal framework into which human na- 
ture must necessarily grow, is a violation of the first and most 
fundamental principle of the Positive science, which demands 
that we shall confine ourselves strictly to the study of actual 



Co CHRISTIANITY AND 

phenomena in their orders of resemblance, coexistence, and 
succession. The history of the human race must be based on 
facts, not on hypotheses, and the facts must be ascertained by 
the study of ancient records and existing monuments of the 
past. Mere plausible analogies and d priori theories based 
upon them, are only fitted to mislead the mind ; they insert a 
prism between the perceiving mind and the course of events 
which decomposes the pure white light of fact, and throws a 
false light over the entire field of history. 

2. The second order of proof is attempted to he drawn from the 
analogies of individual experience. 

It is claimed that the history of the race is the same as that 
of each individual mind ; and it is affirmed that man is religious 
in infancy, metaphysical in youth, and positive^ that is, scientific 
without being religious, in mature manhood ; the history of the 
race must therefore have followed the same order. 

We are under no necessity of denying that there is some 
analogy between the development of mind in the individual 
man, and in humanity as a whole, in order to refute the theory 
of Comte. Still, it must not be overlooked that the develop- 
ment of mind, in all cases and in all ages, is materially affected 
by exterior conditions. The influence of geographical and cli- 
matic conditions, of social and national institutions, and espe- 
cially of education, however difficult to be estimated, can not be 
, utterly disregarded. And whether all these influences have 
not been controlled, and collocated, and adjusted by a Supreme 
Mind in the education of humanity, is also a question which 
can not be pushed aside as of no consequence. Now, unless it 
can be shown that the same outward conditions which have ac- 
companied the individual and modified his mental development, 
have been repeated in the history of the race, and repeated in 
the same order of succession, the argument has no value. 

But, even supposing it could be shown that the development 
of mind in humanity has followed the same order as that of the 
individual, we confidently affirm that Comte has not given the 
true history of the development of the individual mind. The 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 6 1 

account he has given may perhaps be the history of his own 
mental progress, but it certainly is not the history of every in- 
dividual mind, nor indeed, of a majority even, of educated 
minds that have arrived at maturity. It would be much more 
in harmony with facts to say childhood is the period of pure 
receptivity, youth of doubt and skepticism, and maturity of well- 
grounded and rational belief. In the ripeness and maturity of 
the nineteenth century the number of scientific men of the 
Comtean model is exceedingly small compared with the num- 
ber of religious men. There are minds in every part of Europe 
and America as thoroughly scientific as that of Comte, and as 
deeply imbued with the spirit of the Inductive Philosophy, which 
are not conscious of any discordance between the facts of sci- 
ence and the fundamental principles of theology. It may be 
that, in his own immediate circle at Paris there may be a tend- 
ency to Atheism, but certainly no such tendency exists in the 
most scientific minds of Europe and America. The faith of Ba- 
con, and Newton, and Boyle, of Descartes, Leibnitz, and Pascal, 
in regard to the fundamental principles of theology, is still the 
faith of Sedgwick, Whewell, Herschel, Brewster, Owen, Agassiz, 
Silliman, Mitchell, Hitchcock, Dana, and, indeed of the lead- 
ing scientific minds of the world — the men who, as Comte 
would say, " belong to the elite of humanity." The mature 
mind, whether of the individual or the race, is not Atheistical. 

3. The third proof is drawn froi7i a stirvey of the history of cer- 
tain portio?ts of our race. 

Comte is far from being assured that the progress of hu- 
manity, under the operation of his grand law of development, 
has been uniform and invariable. The majority of the human 
race, the vast populations of India, China, and Japan, have re- 
mained stationary ; they are still in the Theological stage, and 
consequently furnish no evidence in support of his theory. For 
this reason he confines himself to the " elite " or advance-guard 
of humanity, and in this way makes the history of humanity a 
very " abstract history " indeed. Starting with Greece as the 
representative of ancient civilization, passing thence to Roman 



62 CHRISTIANITY AND 

civilization, and onward to Western Europe, he attempts to 
show that the actual progress of humanity has been, on the 
whole, in conformity with his law. To secure, however, even 
this semblance of harmony between the facts of history and his 
hypothetical law, he has to treat the facts very much as Pro- 
crustes treated his victims, — he must stretch some, and muti- 
late others, so as to make their forms fit the iron bed. The 
natural organization of European civilization is distorted and 
torn asunder. " As the third or positive stage had accom- 
plished its advent in his ovm person, it was necessary to find 
the metaphysical period just before ; and so the whole life of 
the Reformed Christianity, in embryo and in manifest exist- 
ence, is stripped of its garb oi faith, and turned out of view as 
a naked metaphysical phenomenon. But metaphysics, again, 
have to be ushered in by theology ; and of the three stages of 
theology Monotheism is the last, necessarily following on Poly- 
theism, as that, again, on Fetichism. There is nothing for it, 
therefore, but to let the mediaeval Catholic Christianity stand 
as the world's first monotheism, and to treat it as the legitimate 
offspring and necessary development of the Greek and Roman 
polytheism. This, accordingly, Comte actually does. Prot- 
estantism he illegitimates, and outlaws from religion altogether, 
and the genuine Christianity he fathers upon the faith of Ho- 
mer and the Scipios ! Once or twice, indeed, it seems to cross 
him that there was such a people as the Hebrews, and that 
they were not the polytheists they ought to have been. He 
sees the fact, but pushes it out of his way with the remark that 
the Jewish monotheism was * premature.' "^ 

The signal defect of Comte's historical survey, however, is, 
that it furnishes no evidence of the general prevalence of Fet- 
ichism in primitive times. The writings of Moses are certainly 
entitled to as much consideration and credence as the writings 
of Berosus, Manetho, and Herodotus ; and, it will not be denied, 
they teach that the faith of the earliest families and races of 
men was monotheistic. The early Vedas, the Institutes of Menu, 
* Martineau's Essays, pp. 6i, 62. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 63 

the writings of Confucius, the Zendavesta, all bear testimony 
that the ancient faith of India, China, and Persia, was, at any 
rate, pantheistic ; and learned and trustworthy critics, Asiatic 
as well as European, confidently affirm that the ground of the 
Brahminical, Buddhist, and Parsist faith is monotheistic ; and 
that one Being is assumed, in the earliest books, to be the 
origin of all things.^ Without evidence, Comte assumes that 
the savage state is the original condition of man ; and instead 
of going to Asia, the cradle of the race, for some light as 10 ihe 
early condition and opinions of the remotest families of men, 
he turns to Africa, the soudan of the earth, for his illustration 
of the habit of man, in the infancy of our race, to endow every 
object in nature, whether organic or inorganic, with life and in- 
telligence. The theory of a primitive state of ignorance and 
barbarism is a mere assumption — an hypothesis in conflict with 
the traditionary legends of all nations, the earliest records of 
our race, and the unanimous voice of antiquity, which attest the 
general belief in a primitive state of light and innocence. 

The three stages of development which Comte describes as 
necessarily successive, have, for centuries past, been simultane- 
ous. The theological, the metaphysical, and the scientific ele- 
ments coexist now, and there is no real, radical, or necessary 
conflict between them. Theological and metaphysical ideas 
hold their ground as securely under the influence of enlarged 
scientific discovery as before ; and there is no reason to sup- 
pose they ever had more power over the mind of man than they 
have to-day. The notion that God is dethroned by the wonder- 
ful discoveries of modern science, and theology is dead, is the 
dream of the ^'■profond orage cerebraV which interrupted the 
course of Comte's lectures in 1826. As easily may the hand 
of Positivism arrest the course of the sun, as prevent the in- 
stinctive thought of human reason recognizing and affirming 
the existence of a God. And so long as ever the human mind 
is governed by necessary laws of thought, so long will it seek 

^ *' The Religions of the World in their Relation to Christianity " (Mau- 
rice, ch. ii., iii., iv.). ' 



64 CHRISTIANITY AND 

to pass beyond the limits of mere phenomena, and inquire after 
the real Being which is the ground, and reason, and cause of 
all that appears. The heart of man, also, demands a religion. 
Its longings can never be satisfied by the generalizations of 
science, however grand and imposing. Even Comte felt the 
unutterable yearnings of the religious sentiments, and the ne- 
cessity that his philosophy should afford them some satisfac- 
tion. He suddenly discovers that his mission is to re-organize 
entirely the whole of human society, on the principle of giv- 
ing ascendency to the heart over the understanding. He pro- 
claims himself as the founder of a new, final, and universal 
worship, and " the High-Priest of the Religion of Humanity." 
This new religion he develops in his " Catechism of Positive Re- 
ligion^ Having superseded " monotheism," he finds it neces- 
sary to invent a " new Supreme Being ;" and such a being he 
has accordingly provided, and ordered to be represented in 
statuary by " a woman of thirty, with a child in her arms." This 
" Grand-Etre " is the sum-total of the civilized or progressive 
part of our race. Thus the worship of humanity is to displace 
the worship of God. The deification of mortals is to supply the 
place of " the King immortal, eternal, invisible." This new re- 
ligion " has its cultus, private and public ; its organization of 
dogma, its discipline penetrating the whole of life ; its altars, 
its temples, its symbolism, its prescribed gestures and times ; 
its ratios and length of prayers ; its rules for opening or shutting 
the eyes ; its ecclesiastical courts and canonizations ; its orders 
of priesthood and scale of benefices ; its novitiate and conse- 
cration ; its nine sacraments, its angels, its last judgment, its 
paradise ; in short, all imaginable requisites of a religion — ex- 
cept a God."' 

This first hypothesis is clearly inadequate. To secure any 
appearance of plausibility, it is compelled to pervert and misin- 
terpret the facts of religious history. And, whilst constrained 
to do homage to the religious sentiment, and provide for its 
gratification, it fails to comprehend its true import and grand- 
^ Martineau's Essays, p. 20. 



OBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 65 

eur, and consequently to develop its true philosophy. Its fun- 
damental error is the assumption that all our knowledge is con- 
fined to the observation and classification of sensible phenom- 
ena — that is, to changes perceptible by the senses. Psychology, 
based, as it is, upon self-observation and self-reflection, is a 
" mere illusion ; and logic and ethics, so far as they are built 
upon it as their foundation, are altogether baseless." Spiritual 
entities, forces, causes, efficient or final, are unknown and un- 
knowable ; all inquiry regarding them must be inhibited, " for 
Theology is inevitable if we permit the inquiry into causes at 
all." 

II. The second hypothesis offered in explanation of the facts 
of religious history is, that religioji is part of that process or ev- 
olution OF THE ABSOLUTE (/. ^., the Deity) which., gradually un- 
folding itself in nature, mind, history, and religion, attains to the 
fullest self consciousness in philosophy. 

This is the theory of Hegel, in whose system of philosophy 
the subjective idealism of Kant culminates in the doctrine of 
^^ Absolute Identity.''^ Its fundamental position is that thought 
and being, subject and object, the perceiving mind and the 
thing perceived, are ultimately and essentially one, and that the 
only actual reality is that which results from their mutual rela- 
tion. The outward thing is nothing, the inward perception is 
nothing, for neither could exist alone; the only reality is the 
relation, or rather synthesis of the two ; the essence or nature 
of being in itself accordingly consists in the coexistence of two 
contrarieties. Ideas, arising from the union or synthesis of two 
opposites, are therefore the concrete realities of Hegel ; and the 
process of the evolution of ideas, in the human mind, is the proc- 
ess of all existence — the Absolute Idea. 

The Absolute (die Idee) thus'forms the beginning, middle, and 
end of the system of Hegel. It is the one infinite existence or 
thought, of which nature, mind, history, religion, and philoso- 
phy, are the manifestation. " The absolute is, with him, not the 
infinite substance, as with Spinoza ; nor the infinite subject, as 

5 



66 CHRISTIANITY AND 

with Fichte ; nor the infinite 77imd, as with Schelling ; it is a 
perpetual process, an eternal thinking, without beginning and 
without end.'" This livings eternal process of absolute existence, 
is the God of HegeL 

It will thus be seen that the Absolute is, with Hegel, the sum 
of all actual and possible existence ; " nothing is true and real 
except so far as it forms an element of the Absolute Spirit"' 
" What kind of an Absolute Being," he asks, " is that which 
does not contain in itself all that is actual, even evil included ?"-^ 
The Absolute, therefore, in Hegel's conception, does not allow 
of any existence out of itself. It is the unity of the finite and 
the infinite, the eternal and the temporal, the ideal and the real, 
the subject and the object. And it is not only the unity of 
these opposites so as to exclude all difference, but it contains, 
in itself, all the differences and opposites as elements of its be- 
ing ; otherwise the distinctions would stand over against the 
absolute as a limit, and the absolute would cease to be abso- 
lute. 

God is, therefore, according to Hegel, " no motionless, eter- 
nally self-identical and unchangeable being, but a living, eternal 
process of absolute self-existence. This process consists in the 
eternal self-distinction, or antithesis, and equally self-reconcilia- 
tion or synthesis of those opposites which enter, as necessary 
elements, into the constitution of the Divine Being. This self- 
evolution, whereby the absolute enters into antithesis, and re- 
turns to itself again, is the eternal self-actualization of its being, 

and which at once constitutes the beginning, middle, and 

end, as in the circle, where the beginning is at the same time the 
end, and the end the beginning."* 

The whole philosophy of Hegel consists in the development 
of this idea of God by means of his, so-called, dialectic method, 
which reflects the objective life-process of the Absolute, and is, 
in fact, identical with it ; for God, says he, " is only the Abso- 

' Morel], " Hist, of Philos., p. 461." 

^ " Philos. of Religion," p. 204. ^ Ibid., chap. xi. p. 24. 

* Herzog's Real-Encyc, art. " Hegelian Philps.," by Ulrici. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 67 

lute Intelligence in so far as he knows himself to be the Abso- 
lute Intelligence, a7id this he knows only in science [dialectics], 
and this knowledge alone constitutes his true existence"^ This 
life-process of the Absolute has three " moments." It may be 
considered as the idea in itself— hdixe, naked, undetermined, un- 
conscious idea ; as the idea out of itself in its objective form, 
or in its differentiation ; and, finally, as the idea in itself 2016. for 
itself in its regressive or reflective form. This movement of 
thought giY&s, frst, bare, naked, indeterminate thought, or 
thought in the mere antithesis of Being and non-Being ; second- 
ly, thought externalizing itself in nature ; and, thirdly, thought 
returning to itself, and knowing itself in mind, or consciousness. 
Philosophy has, accordingly, three corresponding divisions : — 
I. LOGIC, which here is identical with metaphysics ; 2. philos- 
ophy of NATURE ; 3. PHILOSOPHY OF MIND. 

It is beyond our design to present an expanded view of the 
entire philosophy of Hegel. But as he has given to the world 
a new logic, it may be needful to glance at its general features 
as a help to the comprehension of his philosophy of religion. 
The fundamental law of his logic is the identity of contraries or 
contradictions. All thought is a synthesis of contraries or oppo- 
sites. This antithesis not only exists in all ideas, but consti- 
tutes them. In every idea we form, there must be two things 
opposed and distinguished, in order to afford a clear concep- 
tion. Light can not be conceived but as the opposite of dark- 
ness j good can not be thought except in opposition to evil. 
All life, all reality is thus, essentially, the union of two elements, 
which, together, are mutually opposed to, and yet imply each 
other. 

The identity of Being and Nothing is one of the consequen- 
ces of this law. 

1. The Absolute is the Being (das Absolute ist das Seyn), and 
" the Being " is here, according to Hegel, bare, naked, abstract, 
undistinguished, indeterminate, unconscious idea. 

2. The Absolute is the Nothing (das Absolute ist das Nichts). 

^ "Hist. ofPhilos.,"iii. p. 399. 



68 CHRISTIANITY AND 

" Pure being is pure abstraction, and consequently the abso- 
lute-negative, which in like manner, directly taken, is nothijigy 
Being and Nothing are the positive and negative poles of the 
Idea, that is, the Absolute. They both alike exist, they are 
both pure abstractions, both absolutely unconditioned, without 
attributes, and without consciousness. Hence follows the con- 
clusion — 

3. Being and Nothing are identical {^^2,^ Seyn und das Nichts 
ist dasselbe), Being is non-Being. Non-Being is Being — the An- 
ders-seyn — which becomes as Being to the Seyn. Nothing is, 
in some sense, an actual thing. 

Beitig and Nothing are thus the two elements which enter 
into the one Absolute Idea as contradictories, and both togeth- 
er combine to form a complete notion of bare production, or 
the hecoining of something out of nothing, — the unfolding of real 
existence in its lowest form, that is, of iiatiwe. 

The " Philosophy of Nature " exhibits a series of necessary 
movements which carry the idea forward in the ascending scale 
of sensible existence. The laws of mechanics, chemistry, and 
physiology are resolved into a series of oppositions. But the 
law which governs this development requires the self-reconcilia- 
tion of these opposites. The idea, therefore, which in nature 
was unconscious and ignorant of itself, returns upon itself, and 
becomes conscious of itself, that is, becomes mind. The science 
of the regression or self-reflection of the idea, is the ^^ Philosophy 
of Mind:' 

The '■^Philosophy of Mind''' is subdivided by Hegel into 
three parts. There is, first, the subjective or individual mind 
{psychology) ; then the objective or universal mind, as represent- 
ed in society, the state, and in history {ethics, political philoso- 
phy, ox jurisprudence, zxA philosophy of history) ; and, finally, the 
union of the subjective and objective mind, or the absolute mind. 
This last manifests itself again under three forms, representing 
the three degrees of the self-consciousness of the Spirit, as the 
eternal truth. These are, first, art, or the representation of 
beauty (cesthetics) ; secondly, religion, in the general acceptation 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 69 

of the term (philosophy of religion) ; and, thvcdXy^ philosophy it- 
self, as the purest and most perfect form of the scientific knowl- 
edge of truth. All historical religions, the Oriental, the Jew- 
ish, the Greek, the Roman, and the Christian, are the successive 
stages hi the development or self-actualization of God} 

It is unnecessary to indicate to the reader that the philoso- 
phy of Hegel is essentially pantheistic. " God is not a person^ 
but personality itself, /. ^., the universal personality, which real- 
izes itself in every human consciousness, as so many separate 
thoughts of one eternal mind. The idea we form of the abso- 
lute is, to Hegel, the absolute itself, its essential existence be- 
ing identical with our conception of it. Apart from, and out 
of the world, there is no God j and so also, apart from the uni- 
versal consciousness of man, there is no Divine consciousness 
or personality."^ 

This whole conception of religion, however, is false, and con- 
flicts with the actual facts of man's religious nature and relig- 
ious history. If the word "religion" has any meaning at all, 
it is " a mode of life determined by the consciousness of de- 
pendence upon, and obligation to God." It is reverence for, 
gratitude to, and worship of God as a being distinct from hu- 
manity. But in the philosophy of Hegel religion is a part of 
God — a stage in the development or self-actualization of God. 
Viewed under one aspect, religion is the self-adoration of God 
— the worship of God by God ; under another aspect it is the 
worship of humanity, since God only becomes conscious of 
himself in humanity. The fundamental fallacy is that upon 
v/hich his entire method proceeds, viz., " the identity of subject 
and object, being and thought." Against this false position the 
consciousness of each individual man, and the universal con- 
sciousness of our race, as revealed in history, alike protest. If 
thought and being are identical, then whatever is true of ideas 
is also true of objects, and then, as Kant had before remarked, 

^ See art. " Hegelian Philosophy," in Herzog's Real-Eiicyc, from whence 
our materials are chiefly drawn. 
"" Morell, " Hist of Philos.," p. 473. 



70 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



there is no difference between ihinkhig we possess a hundred 
dollars, and 2.QX.\!i'd}A^ possessing them. Such absurdities may be 
rendered plausible by a logic which asserts the " identity of 
contradictions," but against such logic common sense rebels. 
" The law of non-contradiction " has been accepted by all logi- 
cians, from the days of Aristotle, as a fundamental law of 
thought. *' Whatever is contradictory is unthinkable. A=not 
A=0, or A— A=0."^ Non-existence can not exist. Being 
can not be nothing. 

III. The third hypothesis affirms that the pheiiomenon of re- 
ligion has its foundation tn feeling — the feeling of dependence and 
of obligation ; and that to which the mind, by spontaneous in- 
tuition or instinctive faith, traces that dependence and obliga- 
tion we call God. 

This, with some slight modification in each case, consequent 
upon the differences in their philosophic systems, is the theory 
of Jacobi, Schleiermacher, Nitzsch, Mansel, and probably Ham- 
ilton. Its fundamental position is, that we can not gain truth 
with absolute certainty either from sense or reason, and, con- 
sequently, the only valid source of real knowledge is feeli7ig — 
faith, intuition, or, as it is called by some, i?ispiratio?i. 

There have been those, in all ages, who have made all 
knowledge of invisible, supersensuous, divine things, to rest 
upon an internal feeling, or immediate, inward vision. The 
Oriental Mystics, the Neo-Platonists, the Mystics of the Greek 
and Latin Church, the German Mystics of the 14th century, the 
Theosophists of the Reformation, the Quietists of France, the 
Quakers, have all appealed to some special faculty, distinct 
from the understanding and reason, for the immediate cogni- 
tion of invisible and spiritual existences. By some, that 
special faculty was regarded as an " interior eye " which was 
illuminated by the " Universal Light ;" by others, as a peculiar 
sensibility of the soul — 2^ feeling in whose perfect calm and ut- 
ter quiescence the Divinity was mirrored ; or which, in an ec- 
^ Hamilton's Logic, p. 58. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 71 

static state, rose to a communion with, and final absorption in 
the Infinite. 

Jacobi was the first, in modern times, to give the " faith- 
philosophy," as it is now designated, a definite form. He as- 
sumes the position that all knowledge, of whatever kind, must 
ultimately rest upon intuition or faith. As it regards sensible 
objects, the understanding finds the impression from which all 
our knowledge of the external flows, ready formed. The proc- 
ess of sensation is a mystery ; we know nothing of it until it is 
past, and the feeling it produces is present. Our knowledge of 
matter, therefore, rests upon faith in these intuitions. We can 
not doubt that the feeling has an objective cause. In every act 
of perception there is something actual and present, which can 
not be referred to a mere subjective law of thought. We are 
also conscious of another class of feelings which correlate us 
with a supersensuous world, and these feelings, also, must have 
their cause in some objective reality. Just as sensation gives 
us an immediate knowledge of an external world, so there is an 
internal sense which gives us an immediate knowledge of a spir- 
itual world — -God, the soul, freedom, immortality. Our knowl- 
edge of the invisible world, like our knowledge of the visible 
world, is grounded upon faith in our intuitions. All philosoph- 
ic knowledge is thus based upon belief, which Jacobi regards as 
a fact of our inward sensibility — a sort of knowledge produced 
by an immediate feeling of the soul — a direct apprehension, 
without proof, of the True, the Supersensuous, the Eternal. 

Jacobi prepared the way for, and was soon eclipsed by the 
deservedly greater name of Schleiermacher. His fundamental 
position was that truth in Theology could not be obtained by rea- 
son, but by a feeling, insight, or intuition, which in its lowest form 
he called God-consciousness, and in its highest form, Christian- 
consciousness. The God-consciousness, in its original form, is 
the feeling of depejidence on the Infinite. The Christian con- 
sciousness is the perfect union of the human consciousness with 
the Divine, through the mediation of Christ, or what we would 
call a Christian experience of communion with God. 



72 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Rightly to understand the position of Schleiermacher we 
must take account of his doctrine of i"^^consciousness. " In 
all self-consciousness," says he, " there are two elements, a Be- 
ing (ein Seyn) and a Somehow-having-become (Irgendweige- 
wordenseyn). The last, however, presupposes, for every self- 
consciousness, besides the ego, yet something else from whence 
the certainty of the same [self-consciousness] exists, and with- 
out which self-consciousness would not be just this."^ Every 
determinate mode of the sensibility supposes an object, and a r^- 
lation between the subject and the object, the subjective feeling 
deriving its determinations from the object. External sensa- 
tion, the feeling, say of extension and resistance, gives world- 
consciousness. Internal sensation, the feeling of dependence, 
gives God-consciousness. And it is only by the presence of 
world-consciousness and God-consciousness that self-conscious- 
ness can be what it is. 

We have, then, in our self-consciousness 2, feeling of direct de- 
pendence, and that to which our minds instinctively trace that 
dependence we call God. " By means of the religious feeling, 
the Primal Cause is revealed in us, as in perception, the things 
[external] are revealed in us."^ The felt, therefore, is not only 
the first religious sense, but the ruling, abiding, and perfect form 
of the religious spirit ; whatever lays any claim to religion must 
maintain its ground and principle in feeling, upon which it de- 
pends for its development j and the sum-total of the forces con- 
stituting religious life, inasmuch as it is a life, is based upon 
immediate self-consciousness.^ 

The doctrine of Schleiermacher is somewhat modified by 
Mansel, in his '■^Limits of Religious Thought ^ He maintains, 
with Schleiermacher, that religion is grounded in feelijig, and 
that the felt is the first intimation or presentiment of the Di- 
vine. Man '■'■feels within him the consciousness of a Supreme 
Being, and the instinct to worship, before he can argue from 
effects to causes, or estimate the traces of wisdom and benevo- 

^ Glaubenslchre, ch, i. § 4. '^ Dialectic, p. 430. 

^ Nitzsch, " System of Doctrine," p. 23. 



GREEK FHILOSOPHY. 73 

lence scattered through the creation."^ He also agrees with 
Schleiermacher in regarding the feeling of dependence as a state 
of the sensibihty, out of which reflection builds up the edifice 
of Religious Consciousness, but he does not, with Schleier- 
macher, regard it as pre-eminently the basis of religious con- 
sciousness. "The mere consciousness of dependence does 
not, of itself, exhibit the character of the Being on whom we 
depend. It is as consistent with superstition as with religion ; 
with the belief in a malevolent, as in a benevolent Deity.'"* 
To the feeling of dependence he has added the consciousness 
of moral obligation, which he imagines supplies the deficiency. 
By this consciousness of moral obligation "we are compelled 
to assume the existence of a moral Deity, and to regard the 
absolute standard of right and wrong as constituted by the 
nature of that Deity. "^ " To these two facts of the inner con- 
sciousness (the feeling of dependence, and consciousness of 
moral obligation) may be traced, as to their sources, the two 
great outward acts by which religion, in its various forms, has 
been manifested among men — Prayer, by which they seek to 
win God's blessing upon the future, and Expiation, by which 
they strive to atone for the offenses of the past. The feeling 
of dependence is the instinct which urges us to pray. It is the 
feeling that our existence and welfare are in the hands of a su- 
perior power; not an inexorable fate, not an immutable law; 
but a Being having at least so far the attribute of personality 
that he can show favor or severity to those who are dependent 
upon Him, and can be regarded by them with feelings of hope 
and fear, and reverence and gratitude."* The feeling of moral 
obligation — "the law written in the heart" — leads man to rec- 
ognize a Lawgiver. " Man can. be a law unto himself only on 
the supposition that he reflects in himself the law of God."^ 
The conclusion from the whole is, there must be an object an- 
swering to this consciousness : there must be a God to explain 
these facts of the soul. 

^ Mansel, " Limits of Religious Thought," p. 115. ^ Id., ib., p. 120. 

^ Id.,ib., p, 122, * Id., ib,, pp. 119, 120. ^ Id., ib., p. 122. 



74 CHRISTIANITY AND 

This "philosophy of feeling," or of faith generated by feel- 
ing, has an interest and a significance which has not been ad- 
equately recognized by writers on natural theology. Feeling, 
sentiment, enthusiasm, have always played an important part in 
the history of religion. Indeed it must be conceded that religion 
is a right state of feeling towards God — religion is piety. A philos- 
ophy of the religious emotion is, therefore, demanded in order 
to the full interpretation of the religious phenomena of the world. 

But the notion that internal feeling, a peculiar determination 
of the sensibility, is the source of religious ideas : — that God 
can be known immediately by feeling without the mediation of 
the truth that manifests God; that he can ho. felt as the quali- 
ties of matter can be felt j and that this affection of the inward 
sense can reveal the character and perfections of God, is an 
unphilosophical and groundless assumption. To assert, with 
Nitzsch, that "feeling has reason, and is reason, and that the 
sensible and felt God-consciousness generates out of itself fun- 
damental conceptions," is to confound the most fundamental 
psychological distinctions, and arbitrarily bend the recognized 
classifications of mental science to the necessities of a theory. 
Indeed, we are informed that it is "by means of an independent 
psychology, and conformably to it," that Schleiermacher illus- 
trates his "philosophy of feeling."^ But all psychology must 
be based upon the observation and classification of mental 
phenomena, as revealed in consciousness, and not constructed 
in an " independent " and a priori method. The most careful 
psychological analysis has resolved the whole complex phenom- 
ena of mind into thought, feeling, and volition.'^ These orders 
of phenomena are radically and essentially distinct. They dif- 
fer not simply in degree but in kind, and it is only by an utter 
disregard of the facts of consciousness that they can be con- 
founded. Feeling is not reason, nor can it by any logical dex- 
terity be transformed into reason. 

* Nitzsch, " System of Doctrine," p. 21. 

' Kant, " Critique of Judg.," ch. xxii. ; Cousin, "Hist, of Pliilos.," vol. ii. 
p. 399 ; Hamilton, vol. i. p. 183, Eng. ed. 



OBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 75 

The question as to the relative order of cognition and feel- 
ing, that is, as to whether feeling is the first or original form of 
the religious consciousness, or whether feeling be not conse- 
quent upon some idea or cognition of God, is one which can 
not be determined on empirical grounds. We are precluded 
from all scrutiny of the incipient stages of mental development 
in the individual mind and in collective humanity. If we at- 
tempt to trace the early history of the soul, its beginnings are 
lost in a period of blank unconsciousness, beyond all scrutiny 
of memory or imagination. If we attempt the inquiry on the 
wider field of universal consciousness, the first unfoldings of 
mind in humanity are lost in the border-land of mystery, of 
which history furnishes no authentic records. All dogmatic af- 
firmation must, therefore, be unjustifiable. The assertion that 
religious feeling precedes all cognition, — that " the conscious- 
ness of dependence on a Supreme Being, and the instinct of 
worship " are developed first in the mind, before the reasoji is 
exercised, is utterly groundless. The more probable doctrine 
is that all the primary faculties enter into spontaneous action 
simultaneously — the reason with the senses, the feelings with 
the reason, the judgment with both the senses and the reason, 
and that from their primary and simultaneous action arises 
the complex result, called consciousness, or conjoint knowl- 
edge.^ There can. be no clear and distinct consciousness with- 
out the cognition of a self 2Ji^ a not-self m. mutual relation and 
opposition. Now the knowledge of the self — the personal ego 
— is an intuition of reason ; the knowledge of the not-self is an 
intuition of sense. All knowledge is possible only under con- 
dition of plurality, difference, and relation.^ Now the judgment 
is " the Faculty of Relations," or of comparison ; and the af- 
firmation '''•this is not that^^ is an act of judgment; to know is, 
consequently, to judge.^ Self-consciousness must, therefore, be 
regarded as a synthesis of sense, reason, and judgment, and 
not a mere self-feeling (coenaesthesis). 

^ Cousin, " Hist, of Philos.," vol. i. p. 357 ; vol. ii. p. 337. 

' Id., ib., vol. i. p. 8S. ^ Hamilton, " Metaphys.," p. 277. 



76 CHRISTIANITY AND 

A profound analysis will further lead to the conclusion that 
if ideas of reason are not chronologically antecedent to sensa- 
. tion, they are, at least, the logical antecedents of all cognition. 
The mere feeling of resistance can not give the notion of body 
without the a priori idea of space. The feeling of movement, 
of change, can not give the cognition of event without the ra- 
tional idea of time or duration. Simple consciousness can not 
generate the idea of personality, or selfhood, without the ration- 
al idea of identity or unity. And so the mere " feeling of de- 
pendence," of finiteness and imperfection, can not give the idea 
of God, without the rational a priori idea of the Infinite, the 
Perfect, the Unconditioned Cause. Sensatioh is not knowl- 
edge, and never can become knowledge, without the interven- 
tion of reason ; and a concentrated self-feeling can not rise es- 
sentially above animal life until it has, through the mediation 
of reason, attained the idea of the existence of a Supreme Being 
ruliog over nature and man. 

Mere feeling is essentially blind. In its pathological form, it 
may indicate a want, and even develop an unconscious appe- 
tency, but it can not, itself, reveal an object, any more than the 
feeling of hunger can reveal the actual presence, or determine the 
character and fitness, of any food. An undefinable fear, a mys- 
terious presentiment, an instinctive yearning, a hunger of the 
soul, these are all irrational emotions which can never rise to 
the dignity of knowledge. An object must be conjured by the 
imagination, or conceived by the understanding, or intuitively 
apprehended by the reason, before the feeling can have any 
significance. 

Regarded in its moral form, as " the feeling of obligation," it 
can have no real meaning unless a " law of duty " be known 
and recognized. Feeling, alone, can not reveal what duty 
is. When that which is right, and just, and good is revealed 
to the mind, then the sense of obligation may urge man to 
the performance of duty. But the right, the just, the good, 
are ideas which are apprehended by the reason, and, conse- 
quendy, our moral sentiments are the result of the harmoni- 



GREEK PIIILOSOFHY. 77 

ous and living relation between the reason and the sensibili- 
ties. 

Mr. Mansel asserts the inadequacy of Schleiermacher's 
" feeling of dependence " to reveal the character of the Being 
on whom we depend. He has therefore supplemented his doc- 
trine by the "feeling of moral obligation," which he thinks 
"compels us to assume the existence of a moral Deity." We 
think his " fact of religious intuition " is as inadequate as 
Schleiermacher's to explain the whole phenomena of religion. 
In neither instance does feeling supply the actual knowledge 
of God. The feeling of dependence may indicate that there is 
a Power or Being upon whom we depend for existence and 
well-being, and which Power or Being " we call God." The 
feeling of obligation certainly indicates the existence of a Being 
to whom we are accountable, and which Being Mr. Mansel 
calls a "moral Deity." But in both instances the character, 
and even the existence of God is " assumed" and we are enti- 
tled to ask on what ground it is assumed. It will not be as- 
serted that feeling alone generates the idea, or that the feeling 
is transformed into idea without the intervention of thought 
and reflection. Is there, then, a logical connection between the 
feeling of dependence and of obligation, and the idea of the 
Uncreated Mind, the Infinite First Cause, the Righteous Gov- 
ernor of the world. Or is there a fixed and changeless co-rela- 
tion between the feeling and the idea, so that when the feeling 
is present, the idea also necessarily arises in the mind .? This 
latter opinion seems to be the doctrine of Mansel. We accept 
it as the statement of a fact of consciousness, but we can not 
regard it as an account of the genesis of the idea of God in 
the human mind. The idea of God as the First Cause, the In- 
finite Mind, the Perfect Being, the personal Lord and Law- 
giver, the creator, sustainer, and ruler of the world, is not a 
simple, primitive intuition of the mind. It is manifestly a com- 
plex, concrete idea, and, as such, can not be developed in con- 
sciousness, by the operation of a single faculty of the mind, in 
a simple, undivided act. It originates in the spontaneous ope- 



78 CHRISTIANITY AND 

ration of the whole mind. It is a necessary deduction from 
the facts of the universe, and the primitive intuitions of the rea- 
son, — a logical inference from the facts of sense, consciousness, 
and reason. A philosophy of religion which regards the feel- 
ings as supreme, and which brands the decisions of reason as 
uncertain, and well-nigh valueless, necessarily degenerates into 
mysticism — a mysticism "which pretends to elevate man di- 
rectly to God, and does not see that, in depriving reason of its 
power, it really deprives man of that which enables him to know 
God, and puts him in a just communication with God by the in- 
termediary of eternal and infinite truth. "^ 

The religious sentiments in all minds, and in all ages, have 
resulted from the union of thought and feelmg — the living and 
harmonious relation of reason and sensibility j and a philoso- 
phy which disregards either is inadequate to the explanation of 
the phenomena. 

IV. The fourth hypothesis is, that religion has had its out- 
birth in the spontaneous apperceptions of reason ; that is, in the 
necessary, a priori ideas of the infinite, the perfect, the uncon- 
ditioned Cause, the Eternal Being, which are evoked into con- 
sciousness in presence of the changeful, contingent phenomena 
of the world. 

This will at once be recognized by the intelligent reader as 
the doctrine of Cousin, by whom pure reason is regarded as the 
grand faculty or organ of religion. 

Religion, in the estimation of Cousin, is grounded on cognitio7i 
rather than upon feeling. It is the knowledge of God, and the 
knowledge of duty in its relation to God and to human happi- 
ness ; and as reason is the general faculty of all knowing, it must 
be the faculty of religion. " In its most elevated point of view, 
religion is the relation of absolute truth to absolute Being," and 
as absolute truth is apprehended by the reason alone, reason 
" is the veridical and religious part of the nature of man."" By 

' Cousin, "True, Beautiful, and Good," p. no. 
"^ Henry's Cousin, p. 510. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 79 

" reason," however, as we shall see presently, Cousin does not 
mean the discursive or reflective reason, but the spontaneous 
or intuitive reason. That act of the mind by which we attain 
to religious knowledge is not a process of reasonings but a pure 
appreciation, an instinctive and involuntary movement of the 
soul 

The especial function of reason, therefore, is to reveal to us 
the invisible, the supersensuous, the Divine. " It was bestowed 
upon us for this very purpose of going, without any circuit of 
reasoning, from the visible to the invisible, from the finite to the 
infinite, from the imperfect to the perfect, and from necessary 
and eternal truths, to the eternal and necessary principle " that 
is God.^ Reason is thus, as it were, the bridge between con- 
sciousness and being ; it rests, at the same time, on both ; it de- 
scends from God, and approaches man ; it makes its appear- 
ance in consciousness as a guest which brings intelligence of 
another world of real Being which lies beyond the world of 
sense. 

Reason does not, however, attain to the Absolute Being di- 
rectly and immediately, without any intervening medium. To 
assert this would be to fall into the error of Plotinus, and the 
Alexandrian Mystics. Reason is the offspring of God, a ray 
of the Eternal Reason, but it is not to be identified with God. 
Reason attains to the Absolute Being indirectly, and by the in- 
terposition of truth. Absolute truth is an attribute and a man- 
ifestation of God. "Truth is incomprehensible without God, 
and God is incomprehensible without truth. Truth is placed 
between human intelligence, and the supreme intelligence as a 
kind of mediator."^ Incapable of contemplating God face to 
face, reason adores God in the truth which represents and 
manifests Him. 

Absolute truth is thus a revelation of God, made by God to 

the reason of man, and as it is a light which illuminates every 

man, and is perpetually perceived by all men, it is a universal 

and perpetual revelation of God to man. The mind of man is 

^ Cousin, "True, Beautiful, and Good," p. 103. ^ Id., ib., p. 99.. 



8o CHRISTIANITY AND 

" the offspring of God," and, as such, must have some resem- 
blance to, and some correlation with God. Now that which 
constitutes the image of God in man must be found in the rea- 
son which is correlated with, and capable of perceiving the 
truth which manifests God, just as the eye is correlated to the 
lio-ht which manifests the external world. Absolute truth is, 
therefore, the sole medium of bringing the human mind into 
communion with God j and human reason, in becoming united 
to absolute truth, becomes united to God in his manifestation 
in spirit and in truth. The supreme law, and highest destina- 
tion of man, is to become united to God by seeking a full con- 
sciousness of, and loving and practising the Truth.' 

It will at once be obvious that the grand crucial questions 
by which this philosophy of religion is to be tested are — 

I St. ITow will Cousin prove to us that humaJi reason is i?i pos- 
session of universal and necessary principles or absolute truths ? and, 

2d. How are these principles shown to be absolute ? how far do 
these principles of reason possess absolute authority 1 

The answer of Cousin to the first question is that we prove 
reason to be in possession of universal and necessary princi- 
ples by the analysis of the contents of consciousness, that is, by 
psychological analysis. The phenomena of consciousness, in 
their primitive condition, are necessarily complex, concrete, and 
particular. All our primary ideas are complex ideas, for the 
evident reason that all, or nearly all, our faculties enter at once 
into exercise ; their simultaneous action giving us, at the same 
time, a certain number of ideas connected with each other, and 
forming a whole. For example, the idea of the exterior world, 
which is given us so quickly, is a complex idea, which contains 
a number of ideas. There is the idea of the secondary quali- 
ties of exterior objects; there is the idea of the primary quali- 
ties ; there is the idea of the permanent reality of something to 
which you refer these qualities, to wit, matter \ there is the idea 
of space which contains bodies ; there is the idea of time in 
which movements are effected. All these ideas are acquired 
' Henry's Cousin, p. 511, 512. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 8 1 

simultaneously, or nearly simultaneously, and together form 
one complex idea. 

The application of analysis to this complex phenomenon 
clearly reveals that there are simple ideas, beliefs, principles in 
the mind which can not have been derived from sense and ex- 
perience, which sense and experience do not account for, and 
which are the suggestions of reason alone : the idea of the I?i- 
finite^ the Perfect^ the Eternal; the true, the beautiful, the good ; 
the principle of causality, of substance, of unity, of intentional- 
ity j the principle of duty, of obligation, of accountability, of 
retribution. These principles, in their natural and regular de- 
velopment, carry us beyond the limits of consciousness, and re- 
veal to us a world of real being beyond the world of sense. 
They carry us up to an absolute Being, the fountain of all ex- 
istence — a living, personal, righteous God — the author, the sus- 
tain er, and ruler of the universe. 

The proof that these principles are absolute, and possessed 
of absolute authority, is drawn, first, from the impersonality of 
reason, or, rather, the impersonality of the ideas, principles, or 
truths of reason. 

It is not we who create these ideas, neither can we change 
them at our pleasure. We are conscious that the will, in all 
its various efforts, is enstamped with the impress of our person- 
ality. Our volitions are our own. So, also, our desires are our 
own, our emotions are our own. But this is not the same with 
our rational ideas or principles. The ideas of substance, of 
cause, of unity, of intentionality do not belong to one person 
any more than to another ; they belong to mind as mind, they 
are revealed in the universal intelligence of the race. Abso- 
lute truth has no element of personality about it. Man may 
say " my reason," but give him credit for never having dared to 
say '■^ my truth." So far from rational ideas being individual, 
their peculiar characteristic is that they are opposed to individ- 
uality, that is, they are universal and necessary. Instead of 
being circumscribed within the limits of experience, they sur- 
pass and govern it ; they are universal in the midst of particu- 

6 



82 CHBISTIANITY AND 

lar phenomena ; necessary, although mingled with things con- 
tingent ; and absolute, even when appearing within us the rela- 
tive and finite beings that we are/ Necessary, universal, abso- 
lute truth is a direct emanation from God. " Such being the 
case, the decision of reason within its own peculiar province 
possesses an authority almost divine. If we are led astray by 
it, we must be led astray by a light from heaven."^ 

The second proof is derived from the distiiidion between the 
sponta?ieoiis and reflective movements of reason. 

Reflection is voluntary, spontaneity is involuntary ; reflec- 
tion is personal, spontaneity is impersonal ; reflection is analyt- 
ic, spontaneity is synthetic ; reflection begins with doubt, spon- 
taneity with affirmation ; reflection belongs to certain ones, 
spontaneity belongs to all ; reflection produces science, spon- 
taneity gives truth. Reflection is a process, more or less tardy, 
in the individual and in the race. It sometimes engenders er- 
ror and skepticism, sometimes convictions that, from being ra- 
tional, are only the more profound. It constructs systems, it 
creates artificial logic, and all those formulas which we now use 
by the force of habit, as if they were natural to us. But spon- 
taneous intuition is the true logic of nature, — instant, direct, 
and infallible. It is a primitive affirmation which implies no 
negation, and therefore yields positive knowledge. To reflect 
is to return to that which was. It is, by the aid of memory, to 
return to the past, and to render it present to the eye of con- 
sciousness. Reflection, therefore, creates nothing ; it supposes 
an anterior operation of the mind in which there necessarily 
must be as many terms as are discovered by reflection. Before 
all reflection there comes spontaneity — a spontaneity of the in- 
tellect, which seizes truth at once^ without traversing doubt and 
error. "We thus attain to a judgment free from all reflection, 
to an affirmation without any mixture of negation, to an imme- 
diate intuition, the legitimate daughter of the natural energy of 
thought, like the inspiration of the poet, the instinct of the hero, 

' Cousin, " True, Beautiful, and Good," p. 40. 
^ Id., " Lectures," vol. ii. p. 32. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 83 

the enthusiasm of the prophet." Such is the first act of know- 
ing, and in this first act the mind passes from idea to being with- 
out ever suspecting the depth of the chasm it has passed. It 
passes by means of the power which is in it, and is not aston- 
ished at what it has done. It is subsequently astonished when 
by reflection it returns to the analysis of the results, and, by the 
aid of the liberty with which it is endowed, to do the opposite 
of what it has done, to deny what it has affirmed. " Hence 
comes the strife between sophism and common sense, between 
false science and natural truth, between good and bad philoso- 
phy, both of which come from free reflection."^ 

It is this spontaneity of thought which gives birth to religion. 
The instinctive thought which darts through the world, even to 
God, is natural religion. "All thought implies a spontaneous 
faith in God, and there is no such thing as natural atheism. 
Doubt and skepticism may mingle with reflective thought, but 
beneath reflection there is still spontaneity. When the scholar 
has denied the existence of God, listen to the man, interrogate 
him, take him unawares, and you will see that all his words en- 
velop the idea of God, and that faith in God is, without his 
recognition, at the bottom, in his heart. "^ 

Religion, then, in the system of Cousin, does not begin with 
reflection, with science, but with faith. There is, however, this 
difference to be noted between the theory of the " faith-philoso- 
phers " (Jacobi, Schleiermacher, etc.) and the theory of Cousin. 
With them, faith is grounded on sensation ox feeling ; with him, 
it is grounded on reason. " Faith, whatever may be its form, 
whatever may be its object, common or sublime, can be noth- 
ing else than the consent of reason. That is the foundation of 
faith."^ 

Religion is, therefore, with Cousin, at bottom, pure Theism. 
He thinks, however, that "true theism is not a dead religion 
that forgets precisely the fundamental attributes of God." It 
recognizes God as creator, preserver, and governor; it cele- 

^ Cousin, " True, Beautiful, and Good," p. 106. 

^ " Hist, of Philos.," vol. i. p. 137. ^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 90. 



84 CHRISTIANITY AND 

brates a providence ; it adores a perfect, holy, righteous, be- 
nevolent God. It holds the principle of duty, of obligation, of 
moral desert. It not only perceives the divine character, but 
feels its relation to God. The revelation of the Infinite, by rea- 
son, moves the feelings, and passes into sentiment, producing 
reverence, and love, and gratitude. And it creates worship, 
which recalls man to God a thousand times more forcibly than 
the order, harmony, and beaut}^ of the universe can do. 

The spontaneous action of reason, in its greatest energy, is 
i7ispiration. " Inspiration, daughter of the soul and heaven, 
speaks from on high with an absolute authority. It commands 
faith j so all its words are hymns, and its natural language is 
poetry." " Thus, in the cradle of civihzation, he who possessed 
in a higher degree than his fellows the gift of inspiration, 
passed for the confidant and the interpreter of God. He is so 
for others, because he is so for himself; and he is so, in fact, in 
a philosophic sense. Behold the sacred origin of prophecies, 
of pontificates, and of modes of worship."^ 

As an account of the genesis of the idea of God in the hu- 
man intelligence, the doctrine of Cousin must be regarded as 
eminently logical, adequate, and satisfactory. As a theory of 
the origin of religion, as a philosophy which shall explain all 
the phenomena of religion, it must be pronounced defective, 
and, in some of its aspects, erroneous. 

First, it does not take proper account of that living force 
which has in all ages developed so much energy, and wrought 
such vast results in the history of religion, viz., the power of the 
heart. Cousin discourses eloquently on the spontaneous, in- 
stinctive movements of the reason, but he. overlooks, in a great 
measure, the instinctive movements of the heart. He does not 
duly estimate the feeling of reverence and awe which rises spon- 
taneously in presence of the vastness and grandeur of the uni- 
verse, and of the power and glory of which the created universe 
is a symbol and shadow. He disregards that sense of an over- 
shadowing Presence which, at least in seasons of tenderness 
' " Hist, of Philos.," vol. i. p. 129. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 85 

and deep sensibility, seems to compass us about, and lay its 
hand upon us. He scarcely recognizes the deep consciousness 
of imperfection and weakness, and utter dependence, which 
prompts man to seek for and implore the aid of a Superior Be- 
ing ; and, above all, he takes no proper account of the sense of 
guilt and the conscious need of expiation. His theory, there- 
fore, can not adequately explain the universal prevalence of 
sacrifices, penances, and prayers. In short, it does not meet 
and answer to the deep longings of the human heart, the wants, 
sufferings, fears, and hopes of man. 

Cousin claims that the universal reason of man is illumina- 
ted by the light of God. It is quite pertinent to ask. Why may 
not the universal heart of humanity be touched and moved by 
the spirit of God ? If the ideas of reason be a revelation from 
God, may not the instinctive feelings of the heart be an inspira- 
tion of God ? May not God come near to the heart of man and 
awaken a mysterious presentiment of an invisible Presence, and 
an instinctive longing to come nearer to Him ? May he not 
draw men towards himself by sweet, persuasive influences, and 
raise man to a conscious fellowship .> Is not God indeed the 
great want oi the human heart ? 

Secondly, Cousin does not give due importance to the influ- 
ence of revealed truth as given in the sacred Scriptures, and 
of the positive institutions of religion, as a divine economy, su- 
pernaturally originated in the world. He grants, indeed, that 
" a primitive revelation throws light upon the cradle of human 
civilization," and that " all antique traditions refer to an age in 
which man, at his departure from the hand of God, received 
from him immediately all lights, and all truths."^ He also be- 
lieves that " the Mosaic religion, by its developments, is mingled 
with the history of all the surrounding people of Egypt, of As- 
syria, of Persia, and of Greece and Rome.'"' Christianity, how- 
ever, is regarded as " the summing and crown of the two great 
religious systems which reigned by turn in the East and in 
Greece " — the maturity of Ethnicism and Judaism ; a develop- 
' " Hist, of Philos.," vol. i. p. 148. '^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 216. 



86 CHlilSTIANITY AND 

ment rather than a new creation. The explanation which he 
offers of the phenomena of inspiration opens the door to relig- 
ious skepticism. Those who were termed seers, prophets, in- 
spired teachers of ancient times, were simply men who resigned 
themselves wholly to their intellectual instincts, and thus gazed 
upon truth in its pure and perfect form. They did not reason, 
they did not reflect, they made no pretensions to philosophy ; 
they received truth spontaneously as it flowed in upon them 
from heaven.^ This immediate reception of Divine light was 
nothing more than the natural play of spontaneous reason ; 
nothing more than what has existed to a greater or less de- 
gree in every man of great genius ; nothing more than may 
now exist in any mind which resigns itself to its own unreflec- 
tive apperceptions. Thus revelation, in its proper sense, loses 
all its peculiar value, and Christianity is robbed of its pre-emi- 
nent authority. The extremes of Mysticism and Rationalism 
here meet on the same ground, and Plotinus and Cousin are at 
one. 

V. The fifth hypothesis offered in explanation of the relig- 
ious phenomena of the world is that they had theii; origin iii ex- 
ternal REVELATION, to wJiicJi rcasoii is related as a purely pas- 
sive organ ^ and Ethnicism as a feeble relic. 

This is the theory of the school of " dogmatic theologians," 
of which the ablest and most familiar presentation is found in 
the " Theological Institutes " of R. Watson.'^ He claims that 
all our religious knowledge is derived from 07'al revelation alone, 
and that all the forms of religion and modes of worship which 
have prevailed in the heathen world have been perversions and 
corruptions of the one true religion first taught to the earliest 

^ Morell, " Hist, of Philos.," p. 66i. 

" We might have referred the reader to Ellis's " Knowledge of Divine 
Things from Revelation, not from Reason or Nature ;" Leland's ** Necessity 
of Revelation ;" and Horsley's " Dissertations," etc.; but as we are not aware 
of their having been reprinted in this country, we select the " Institutes " 
of Watson as the best presentation of the views of " the dogmatic theolo- 
gians " accessible to American readers. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 87 

families of men by God himself. All the ideas of God, duty, 
immortality, and future retribution which are now possessed, or 
have ever been possessed by the heathen nations, are only 
broken and scattered rays of the primitive traditions descend- 
ing from the family of Noah, and revived by subsequent in- 
tercourses with the Hebrew race ; and all the modes of re- 
ligious worship — prayers, lustrations, sacrifices — that have ob- 
tained in the world, are but feeble relics, faint reminiscences of 
the primitive worship divinely instituted among the first families 
of men. " The first man received the knowledge of God by 
sensible converse with him, and that doctrine was transmitted, 
with the confirmation of successive manifestations, to the early 
ancestors of all nations."^ This belief in the existence of a 
Supreme Being was preserved among the Jews by continual 
manifestations of the presence of Jehovah. " The intercourses 
between the Jews and the states of Syria and Babylon, on the 
one hand, and Egypt on the other, powers which rose to great 
eminence and influence in the ancient world, was maintained 
for ages. Their frequent dispersions and captivities would tend 
to preserve in part, and in part to revive, the knowledge of the 
once common and universal faith."^ And the Greek sages who 
resorted for instruction to the Chaldean philosophic schools 
derived from thence their knowledge of the theological system 
of the Jews.^ Among the heathen nations this primitive reve- 
lation was corrupted by philosophic speculation, as in India and 
China, Greece and Rome ; and in some cases it was entirely 
obliterated by ignorance, superstition, and vice, as among the 
Hottentots of Africa and the aboriginal tribes of New South 
Wales, who " have no idea of one Supreme Creator."* 

The same course of reasoning is pursued in regard to the 
idea of duty, and the knowledge of right and wrong. " A di- 
rect communication of the Divine Will was made to the primo- 

* Watson, " Theol. Inst," vol. i. p. 270. ^ Id. ib., vol. i. p. 31. 

^ See ch. v. and vi., " On the Origin of those Truths which are found in 
the "Writings and Religious Systems of the Heathen." 

* Ibid., vol. i. p. 274. 



88 CHRISTIANITY AND 

genitors of our race," and to this source alone we are indebted 
for all correct ideas of right and wrong. " Whatever is found 
pure in morals, in ancient or modern writers, may be traced to 
indirect revelation."^ Verbal instruction — tradition or scripture 
— thus becomes the source of all our moral ideas. The doc- 
trine of immortality, and of a future retribution,^ the practice of 
sacrifice — precatory and expiatory, are also ascribed to the 
same source.^ Thus the only medium by which religious truth 
can possibly become known to the masses of mankind is tra- 
dition. The ultimate foundation on which the religious faith 
and the religious practices of universal humanity have rested, 
with the exception of the Jews, and the favored few to whom 
the Gospel has come, is uncertain, precarious, and easily cor- 
rupted tradition. 

The improbability, inadequacy, and incompleteness of this 
theory will be obvious from the following considerations : 

I. It is highly improbable that truths so important and vital 
to man, so essential to the well-being of the human race, so 
necessary to the perfect development of humanity as are the 
ideas of God, duty, and immortality, should rest on so precari- 
ous and uncertain a basis as tradition is admitted, even by Mr. 
Watson, to be. 
^ The human mind needs the idea of God to satisfy its deep 
moral necessities, and to harmonize all its powers. The per- 
fection of humanity can never be secured, the destination of 
humanity can never be achieved, the purpose of God in the ex- 
istence of humanity can never be accomplished, without the idea 
of God, and of the relation of man to God, being present to 
the human mind. Society needs the idea of a Supreme Ruler 
as the foundation of law and government, and as the basis of 
social order. Without it, these can not be, or be conserved. 
Intellectual creatureship, social order, human progress, are in- 
conceivable and impossible without the idea of God, and of ac- 
countability to God. Now that truths so fundamental should, 

* Watson, " Theol. Inst.," vol. ii. p. 470. = Id. ib., vol. i. p. 1 1. 

' Id. ib., vol. i. p. 26. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 89 

to the masses of men, rest on tradition alone^ is incredible. Is 
there no known and accessible God to the outlying millions of 
our race who, in consequence of the circumstances of birth and 
education, which are beyond their control, have had no access 
to an oral revelation, and among whom the dim shadowy rays 
of an ancient tradition have long ago expired ? Are the eight 
hundred millions of our race upon whom the light of Christian- 
ity has not shone unvisited by the common Father of our race ? 
Has the universal Father left his "own offspring" without a 
single native power of recognizing the existence of the Divine 
Parent, and abandoned them to solitary and dreary orphanage ? 
Could not he who gave to matter its properties and laws, — the 
properties and laws through whose operation he is working out 
his own purposes in the realm of nature, — could not he have 
also given to mind ideas and principles which, logically devel- 
oped, would lead to recognition of a God, and of our duty to 
God, and, by these ideas and principles, have wrought out his 
sublime purposes in the realm of mind? Could not he who 
gave to man the appetency for food, and implanted in his na- 
ture the social instincts to preserve his physical being, have im- 
planted in his heart a "feeling after God," and an instinct to 
worship God in order to the conservation of his spiritual being ? 
How otherwise can we affirm the responsibility and accounta- 
bility of all the race before God ? Those theologians who are 
so earnest in the assertion that God has not endowed man with 
the native power of attaining the knowledge of God can not, 
on any principle of equity, show how the heathen are " without 
excuse " when, in involuntary ignorance of God, they " worship 
the creature instead of the Creator," and violate a law of duty 
of which they have no possible means to attain the barest 
knowledge. 

2. This theory is utterly inadequate to the explanation of the 
universality of religious rites, and especially of religious ideas. 

Take, for example, the idea of God. As a matter of fact we 
affirm, in opposition to Watson, the universality of this idea. 
The idea of God is connatural to the human mind. Wherever 



90 CHRISTIANITY AND 

human reason has had its normal and healthy development, 
this idea has arisen spontaneously and necessarily. There has 
not been found a race of men who were utterly destitute of 
some knowledge of a- Supreme Being. All the instances al- 
leged have, on further and more accurate inquiry, been found 
incorrect. The tendency of the last century, arbitrarily to quad- 
rate all the facts of religious history with the prevalent sensa- 
tional philosophy, had its influence upon the minds of the first 
missionaries to India, China, Africa, Australia, and the islands 
of the Pacific. They expected to find that the heathen had no 
knowledge of a Supreme Being, and before they had mastered 
the idioms of their language, or become familiar with their my- 
thological and cosmological systems, they reported them as titter- 
ly ignorant of God, destitute of the idea and even the name of 
a Supreme Being. These mistaken and hasty conclusions 
have, however, been corrected by a more intimate acquaintance 
with the people, their languages and religions. Even in the 
absence of any better information, we should be constrained to 
doubt the accuracy of the authorities quoted by Mr. Watson in 
relation to Hindooism, when by one (Ward) we are told that 
the Hindoo " believes in a God destitute of intelligence^^ and by 
another (Moore) that " Brahm is the one eternal Mind, the self- 
existent, incomprehensible Spirit.'" Learned and trustworthy 
critics, Asiatic as well as European, however, confidently affirm 
that " the ground of the Brahminical faith is Monotheistic ;" it 
recognizes " an Absolute and Supreme Being as the source of 
all that exists.'^ Eugene Burnouf, M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire, 
Kceppen, and indeed nearly all who have written on the subject 
of Buddhism, have shown that the metaphysical doctrines of 
Buddha were borrowed from the earlier systems of the Brahmin- 
ic philosophy. " Buddha," we are told, is ''^ pure intelligence,^^ 
" clear light,'' ^^ perfect wisdom /" the same as Brahm. This is 

' Watson, " Theol. Inst.," vol. i. p. 46. 

^ Maurice, ** Religions of the World," p. 59: Edm. Rroieiu, 1862, art. 
" Recent Researches on Buddhism." See also Muller's " Chips from a Ger- 
man Workshop," vol. i. ch. i. to vi. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 



91 



surely Theism in its highest conception/ In regard to the 
peoples of South Africa, Dr. Livingstone assures us " there is 
no need for beginning to tell even the most degraded of these 
people of the existence of a God, or of a future state — the facts 
being universally admitted .... On questioning intelligent men 
among the Backwains as to their former knowledge of good 
and evil, of God, and of a future state, they have scouted the 
idea of any of them ever having been without a tolerably clear 
conception on all these subjects."^ And so far from the New 
Hollanders having no idea of a Supreme Being, we are assured 
by E. Stone Parker, the protector of the aborigines of New Hol- 
land, they have a clear and well-defined idea of a ^^ Great Spirit^^ 
the maker of all things. 

Now had the idea of God rested solely on tradition, it were 
the most natural probability that it might be lost, nay, must be 
lost, amongst those races of men who were geographically and 
chronologically far removed from the primitive cradle of hu- 
manity in the East, The people who, in their migrations, had 
wandered to the remotest parts of the earth, and had become 
isolated from the rest of mankind, might, after the lapse of ages, 
be expected to lose the idea of God, if it were not a spontane- 
ous and native intuition of the mind, — a necessity of thought. 
A fact of history must be presumed to stick to the mind with 
much greater tenacity than a purely rational idea which has no 
visible symbol in the sensible world, and yet, even in regard to 

^ " It has been said that Buddha and Kapila were both atheists, and 
that Buddha borrowed his atheism from Kapila. But atheism is an indefi- 
nite term, and may mean very different things. In one sense every Indian 
philosopher was an atheist, for they all perceived that the gods of the pop- 
ulace could not claim the attributes that belong to a Supreme Being. But 
all the important philosophical syst-ems of the Brahmans admit, in some 
form or another, the existence of an Absolute and Supreme Being, the source 
of all that exists, or seems to exist." — Miiller, " Chips from a German Work- 
shop," vol. i. pp. 224, 5. 

Buddha, which means "intelligence," "clear light," "perfect wisdom," 
was not only the name of the founder of the religion of Eastern Asia, but 
Adi Buddha was the name of the Absolute, Eternal Intelligence. — Maurice, 
" Religions of the World," p. 102. 

"^ " Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa," p. 158. 



92 CHRISTIANITY AND 

the events of history, the persistence and pertinacity of tra- 
dition is exceedingly feeble. The South Sea Islanders know 
not from whence, or at what time, their ancestors came. ^ There 
are monuments in Tonga and Fiji of which the present inhab- 
itants can give no account. How, then, can a pure, abstract 
idea which can have no sensible representation, no visible 
image, retain its hold upon the memory of humanity for thou- 
sands of years ? The Fijian may not remember whence his im- 
mediate ancestors came, but he knows that the race came orig- 
inally from the hands of the Creator. He can not tell who 
built the monuments of solid masonry which are found in his 
island-home, but he can tell who reared the everlasting hills 
and built the universe. He may not know who reigned in 
Vewa a hundred years ago, but he knows who now reigns, and 
has always reigned, over the whole earth. " The idea of a God 
is familiar to the Fijian, and the existence of an invisible su- 
perhuman power controlling and influencing nature, and all 
earthly things, is fully recognized by him."^ The idea of God 
is a common fact of human consciousness, and tradition alone 
is manifestly inadequate to account for its imiversality. 

3. A verbal revelation would be inadequate to convey the 
knowledge of God to an intelligence ^'■purely ^assive^'' and ut- 
terly unfurnished with any ci priori ideas or necessary laws of 
cognition and thought. 

Of course it is not denied that important verbal communica- 
tions relating to the character of God, and the duties we owe 
to God, were given to the first human pair, more clear and defi- 
nite, it may be, than any knowledge attained by Socrates and 
Plato through their dialectic processes, and that these oral 
revelations were successively repeated and enlarged to the pa- 
triarchs and prophets of the Old Testament church. And fur- 
thermore, that some rays of light proceeding from this pure 
fountain of truth were diffused, and are still lingering among 
the heathen nations, we have no desire, and no need to deny. 

All this, however, supposes, at least, a natural power and 
^ " Fiji and the Fijians," p. 215. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 93 

aptitude for the knowledge of God, and some configuration and 
correlation of the human intelligence to the Divine. "We 
have no knowledge of a d3^namic influence, spiritual or natural, 
without a dynamic reaction." Matter can not be moved and 
controlled by forces and laws, unless it have properties which 
correlate it with those forces and laws. And mind can not be 
determined from without to any specific form of cognition, un- 
less it have active powers of apprehension and conception 
which are governed by uniform laws. The "'material" of 
thought may be supplied from without, but the " form " is de- 
termined by the necessary laws of our inward being. All our 
cognition of the external world is conditioned by the a priori 
ideas of time and space, and all our thinking is governed by 
the principles of causality and substance, and the law of " suf- 
ficient reason." The mind itself supplies an element of knowl- 
edge in all our cognitions. Man can not be taught the knowl- 
edge of God if he be not naturally possessed of a presentiment, 
or an apperception of a God, as the cause and reason of the 
universe. " If education be not already preceded by an innate 
consciousness of God, as an operative predisposition, there 
would be nothing for education and culture to act upon."^ A 
mere verbal revelation can not communicate the knowledge of 
God, if man have not already the idea of a God in his mind. 
A name is a mere empty sign, a meaningless symbol, without a 
mental image of the object which it represents, or an innate 
perception, or an abstract conception of the mind, of which the 
word is the sign. The mental image or the abstract concep- 
tion must, therefore, precede the name ; cognition must be an- 
terior to, and give the meaning of language.'^ The child knows 
a thing even before it can speak its name. And, universally, 
we must know the thing in itself, or image it by analogies and 
resemblances to some other thing we do know, before the name 
can have any meaning for us. As to purely rational ideas and 

* Nitzsch, " System of Christian Doctrine," p. 10. 

"^ "Ideas must pre-exist their sensible signs." See De Boismont on 
" Hallucination," etc., p. iii. 



94 CHRISTIANITY AND 

abstract conceptions, — as space, cause, the infinite, the per- 
fect, — language can never convey these to the mind, nor can 
the mind ever attain them by experience if they are not an orig- 
inal, connate part of our mental equipment and furniture. The 
mere verbal affirmation " there is a God " made to one who has 
no idea of a God, would be meaningless and unintelligible. 
What notion can a man form of " the First Cause " if the prin- 
ciple of causality is not inherent in his mind ? What concep- 
tion can he form of '' the Infinite Mind " if the infinite be not 
a primitive intuition ? How can he conceive of " a Righteous 
Governor " if he have no idea of right, no sense of obligation, 
no apprehension of a retribution? Words are empty sounds 
without ideas, and God is a mere name if the mind has no ap- 
perception of a God. 

It may be affirmed that, preceding or accompanying the an- 
nouncement of the Divine Name, there was given to the first 
human pair, and to the early fathers of our race, some visible 
manifestation of the presence of God, and some supernatural 
display of divine power. What, then, was the character of 
these early manifestations, and were they adequate to convey 
the proper idea of God ? Did God first reveal himself in hu- 
man form, and if so, how could their conception of God ad- 
vance beyond a rude anthropomorphism? Did he reveal his 
presence in a vast columnar cloud or a pillar of fire ? How 
could such an image convey any<:onception of the intelligence, 
the omnipresence, the eternity of God ? Nay, can the infinite 
and eternal Mind be represented by any visible manifestation ? 
Can the human mind conceive an image of God ? The knowl- 
edge of God, it is clear, can not be conveyed by any sensible 
sign or symbol if man has no prior rational idea of God as the 
Infinite and the Perfect Being. 

If the facts of order, and design, and special adaptation 
which crowd the universe, and the d priori ideas of an uncon- 
ditioned Cause and an infinite Intelligence which arise in the 
mind in presence of these facts, are inadequate to produce the 
logical conviction that it is the work of an intelligent mind, how 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 95 

can any preternatural display o^ power produce a rational con- 
viction that God exists? "If the universe could come by 
chance or fate, surely all the lesser phenomena, termed mirac- 
ulous, might occur so too."* If we find ourselves standing 
amid an eternal series of events, may not miracles be a part of 
that series? Or if all things are the result of necessary and 
unchangeable laws, may not miracles also result from some nat- 
ural or psychological law of which we are yet in ignorance ? 
Let it be granted that man is not so constituted that, by the 
necessary laws of his intelligence, he must affirm that facts of 
order having a commencement in time prove mind ; let it be 
granted that man has 110 intuitive belief in the Infinite and Per- 
fect — in short, no idea of God ; how, then, could a marvellous 
display of power, a nev/, peculiar, and startling phenomenon 
which even seemed to transcend nature, prove to him the ex- 
istence of an infinite intelligence — a personal God ? The proof 
would be simply inadequate, because not the right kind of 
proof Power does not indicate intelligence, force does not 
imply personality. 

Miracles, in short, were never intended to prove the exist- 
ence of God. The foundation of this truth had already been 
laid in the constitution and laws of the human mind, and mira- 
cles were designed to convince us that He of whose existence 
we had a prior certainty, spoke to us by His Messenger, and 
in this way attested his credentials. To the man who has a 
rational belief in the existence of God this evidence of a divine 
mission is at once appropriate and conclusive. " Master, we 
know thou art a teacher sent from God ; for no man can do the 
works which thou doest, except God be with him." The Chris- 
tian missionary does not commence his instruction to the 
heathen, who have an imperfect, or even erroneous conception 
of " the Great Spirit,'"' by narrating the miracles of Christ, or 
quoting the testimony of the Divine Book he carries along with 
him. He points to the heavens and the earth, and says, 
" There is a Being who made all these things, and Jehovah is 
* Morell, " Hist, of Philos." p. 737. 



96 CHRISTIANITY AND 

his name ; I have come to you with a message from Him !" 
Or he need scarce do even so much ; for already the heathen, 
in view of the order and beauty which pervades the universe, 
has been constrained, by the laws of his own intelligence, to be- 
lieve in and offer worship to the " "Ayvworoe Qeog " — the unseen 
and incomprehensible God; and pointing to their altars, he 
may announce with Paul, " this God whom ye worship , though 
ignorantly, him declare I unto you !" 

The results of our study of the various hypotheses which 
have been offered in explanation of the religious phenomena of 
the world may be summed up as follows : The first and second 
theories we have rejected as utterly false. Instead of being 
faithful to and adequately explaining the facts, they pervert, 
and maltreat, and distort the facts of religious history. The 
last three each contain a precious element of truth which must 
not be undervalued, and which can not be omitted in an ex- 
planation which can be pronounced complete. Each theory, 
taken by itself, is incomplete and inadequate. The third hy- 
pothesis overrates feeli?ig; the fourth, reason ; the fifth, verbal 
msfructio?i. The first extreme is Mysticism, the second is Ra- 
tionalism, the last is Dogmatism. Reason, feeling, and faith 
in testimony must be combined, and mutually condition each 
other. No purely rationalistic hypothesis will meet and satisfy 
the wants and yearnings of the heart. No theory based on 
feeling alone can satisfy the demands of the human intellect. 
And, finally, an hypothesis which bases all religion upon his- 
torical testimony and outward fact, and despises and tramples 
upon the intuitions of the reason and the instincts of the heart 
can never command the general faith of mankind. Religion 
embraces and conditionates the whole sphere of life — thought, 
feeling, faith, and action j it must therefore be grounded in the 
entire spiritual nature of man. 

Our criticism of opposite theories has thus prepared the way 
for, and obviated the necessity of an extended discussion of the 
hypothesis we now advance. 



GREEK FHILOSOPHT. 97 

The universal phenomenon of religion has originated in the a 
priori apperceptions of reason, and the natural instinctive feelings 
of the heart, which, from age to age, have been vitalized, unfolded, 
and perfected by supernatural commtmications and testa?ne?ztary 
revelations. 

There are universal facts of religious history which can only 
be explained on the first principle of this hypothesis ; there are 
special facts which can only be explained on the latter princi- 
ple. The universal prevalence of the idea of God, and the feel- 
ing of obligation to obey and worship God, belong to the first 
order of facts ; the general prevalence of expiatory sacrifices, 
of the rite of circumcision, and the observance of sacred and 
holy days, belong to the latter. To the last class of facts the 
observance of the Christian Sabbath, and the rites of Baptism 
and the Lord's Supper may be added. 

The history of all religions clearly attests that there are two 
orders of principles — the natural and the positive, and, in some 
measure, two authorities of religious life which are intimately 
related without negativing each other. The characteristic of 
the natural is. that it is intrinsic, of the positive, that it is extrin- 
sic. In all ages men have sought the authority of the positive 
in that which is immediately beyo?id and above man — in some 
" voice of the Divinity " toning down the stream of ages, or 
speaking through a prophet or oracle, or written in some in- 
spired and sacred book. They have sought for the authority 
of the natural in that which is immediately within man — the 
voice of the Divinity speaking in the conscience and heart of 
man. A careful study of the history of religion will show a re- 
ciprocal relation between the two, and indicate their common 
source. 

AVe expect to find that our hypothesis will be abundantly 
sustained by the study of the Religion of the Athenians. 

7 



98 CHRISTIANITY AND 



CHAPTER HI. 

THE RELIGION OF THE ATHENIANS. 

" All things which I behold bear witness to your carefulness in religion 
{deiac6aiftov£CT£govg). For as I passed through your city, and beheld the ob- 
jects of your worship, I found amongst them an altar with this inscription — 
' TO THE Unknown God.' Whom therefore ye worship " — St. Paul. 

THROUGH one of those remarkable counter-strokes of 
Divine Providence by which the evil designs of men are 
overruled, and made to subserve the purposes of God, the Apos- 
tle Paul was brought to Athens. He walked beneath its stately 
porticoes, he entered its solemn temples, he stood before its 
glorious statuary, he viewed its beautiful altars — all devoted to 
pagan worship. And " his spirit was stirred within him ;" he 
was moved with indignation " when he saw the city full of im- 
ages of the gods."^ At the very entrance of the city he met the 
evidence of this peculiar tendency of the Athenians to multiply 
the objects of their devotion ; for here at the gateway stands 
an image of Neptune, seated on horseback, and brandishing 
the trident. Passing through the gate, his attention would be 
immediately arrested by the sculptured forms of Minerva, Jupi- 
ter, Apollo, Mercury, and the Muses, standing near a sanctuary 
of Bacchus. A long street is now before him, with temples, 
statues, and altars crowded on either hand. Walking to the 
end of this street, and turning to the right, he entered the Agora, 
a public square surrounded with porticoes and temples, which 
were adorned with statuary and paintings in honor of the 
gods of Grecian mythology. Amid the plane-trees planted by 
the hand of Cimon are the statues of the deified heroes of 
Athens, Hercules and Theseus, and the whole series of the 
Eponymi, together with the memorials of the older divinities ; 
' Lange's Commentary, Acts xvii. i6. 



GliEEK PHILOSOPHY. 99 

Mercuries which gave the name to the streets on which they 
were placed; statues dedicated to Apollo as patron of the 
city and her deliverer from the plague j and in the centre of all 
the altar of the Twelve Gods. 

Standing in the market-place, and looking up to the Areop- 
agus, Paul would see the temple of Mars, from whom the hill 
derived its name. And turning toward the Acropolis, he 
would behold, closing the long perspective, a series of little 
sanctuaries on the very ledges of the rocks, shrines of Bacchus 
and ^sculapius, Venus, Earth, and Ceres, ending with the 
lovely form of the Temple of Unwinged Victory, which glit- 
tered in front of the Propylaea. 

If the apostle entered the "fivefold gates," and ascended the 
flight of stone steps to the platform of the Acropolis, he would 
find the whole area one grand composition of architecture and 
statuary dedicated to the worship of the gods. Here stood the 
Parthenon, the Virgin House, the glorious temple which was 
erected during the proudest days of Athenian glory, an entire 
offering to Minerva, the tutelary divinity of Athens. Within 
was the colossal statue of the goddess wrought in ivory and 
gold. Outside the temple there stood another statue of 
Minerva, cast from the brazen spoils of Marathon ; and near 
by yet another brazen Pallas, which was called by pre-emi- 
nence "the Beautiful." 

Indeed, to whatever part of Athens. the apostle wandered, 
he would meet the evidences of their " carefulness in religion," 
for every public place and every public building was a sanctu- 
ary of some god= The Metroum, or record-house, was a temple 
to the mother of the gods. The council-house held statues of 
Apollo and Jupiter, with an altar to Vesta. The theatre at 
the base of the Acropolis was consecrated to Bacchus. The 
Pnyx was dedicated to Jupiter on high. And as if, in this di- 
rection, the Attic imagination knew no bounds, abstractions 
were deified ; altars were erected to Fame, to Energy, to Mod- 
esty, and even to Pity, and these abstractions were honored 
and worshipped as gods. 



lOO CHBISTIANITY AND 

The impression made upon the mind of Paul was, that the 
city was literally " full of idols," or images of the gods. This 
impression is sustained by the testimony of numerous Greek 
and Roman writers. Pausanias , declares that Athens "had 
more images than all the rest of Greece ;" and Petronius, the 
Roman satirist, says, " it was easier to find a god in Athens 
than a man."^ 

No wonder, then, that as Paul wandered amid these scenes 
"his spirit was stirred in him." He burned with holy zeal 
to maintain the honor of the true and only God, whom now he 
saw dishonored on every side. He was filled with compassion 
for those Athenians who, notwithstanding their intellectual 
greatness, had changed the glory of God into an image made 
in the likeness of corruptible man, .and who really worshipped 
the creature more than the Creator. The images intended to 
symbolize the invisible perfections of God were usurping the 
place of God, and receiving the worship due alone to him. 
We may presume the apostle was not insensible to the beau- 
ties of Grecian art. The sublime architecture of the Propylaea 
and the Parthenon, the magnificent sculpture of Phidias and 
Praxiteles, could not fail to excite his wonder. But he remem- 
bered that those superb temples and this glorious statuary 
were the creation of the pagan spirit, and devoted to polythe- 
istic worship. The glory of the supreme God was obscured 
by all this symbolism. The creatures formed by God, the 
symbols of his power and presence in nature, the ministers of 
his providence and moral government, were receiving the hon- 
or due to him. Over all this scene of material beauty and 
aesthetic perfection there rose in dark and hideous proportions 
the errors and delusions and sins against the living God which 
Polytheism nurtured, and unable any longer to restrain him- 
self, he commenced to " reason " with the crowds of Athenians 
who stood beneath the shadows of the plane-trees, or lounged 

' See Conybeare and Howson's "Life and Epistles of St. Paul ;" also, 
art. "Athens," in Encyclopedia Britannica, whence our account of the "sa- 
cred objects " in Athens is chiefly gathered. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. lOl 

beneath the porticoes that surrounded the Agora. Among 
these groups of idlers were mingled the disciples of Zeno and 
Epicurus, who " encountered " Paul. The nature of these 
"disputations "may be easily conjectured. The opinions of 
these philosophers are even now familiarly known : they are, 
in one form or another, current in the literature of modern 
times. MateriaHsm and Pantheism still "encounter" Chris- 
tianity. The apostle asserted the personal being and spiritual- 
ity of one supreme and only God, who has in divers ways re- 
vealed himself to man, and therefore may be " known." He 
proclaimed that Jesus is the fullest and most perfect revelation 
of God — the only "manifestation of God in the flesh." He 
pointed to his *' resurrection " as the proof of his superhuman 
character and mission to the world. Some of his hearers were 
disposed to treat him with contempt ; they represented him as 
an ignorant "babbler," who had picked up a few scraps of 
learning, and who now sought to palm them off as a "new" 
philosophy. But most of them regarded him with that pecu- 
liar Attic curiosity which was always anxious to be hearing 
some "new thing." So they led him away from the tumult 
of the market-place to the top of Mars' Hill, where, in its se- 
rene atmosphere, they might hear him more carefully, and 
said, " May we hear what this new doctrine is whereof thou 
speakest V 

Surrounded by these men of thoughtful, philosophic mind — 
men who had deeply pondered the great problem of existence, 
who had earnestly inquired after the "first principles of 
things,;" men who had reasoned high of creation, fate, and 
providence ; of right and wrong ; of conscience, law, and ret- 
ribution; and had formed strong and decided opinions on all 
these questions — he delivered his discourse on the being, the 
providence, the spirituality, and the moral government of God. 

This grand theme was suggested by an inscription he had 
observed on one of the altars of the city, which was dedicated 
"To the Unknown God." "Ye men of Athens ! every thing 
which I behold bears witness to your carefubiess in religion. 



102 CHRISTIANITY AND 

For as I passed by and beheld your sacred objects I found an 
altar with this inscription, 'To the Unknown God;' whom, 
therefore, ye worship, though ye know him not [adequately], 
Him declare I unto you." Starting from this point, the mani- 
fest carefulness of the Athenians in religion, and accepting 
this inscription as the evidence that they had some presenti- 
ment, some native intuition, some dim conception of the one 
true and living God, he strives to lead them to a deeper knowl- 
edge of Him. It is here conceded by the apostle that the 
Athenians were a religious people. The observations he had 
made during his short stay in Athens enabled him to bear 
witness that the Athenians were " a God-fearing people,"^ and 
he felt that fairness and candor demanded that this trait should 
receive from him an ample recognition and a full acknowledg- 
ment. Accordingly he commences by saying in gentle terms, 
well fitted to conciliate his audience, "All things which I be- 
hold bear witness to your carefulness in religion." I recognize 
you as most devout ; ye appear to me to be a God-fearing peo- 
ple,^ for as I passed by and beheld your sacred objects I found 
an altar with this inscription, " To the Unknown God," whom 
therefore ye worship. 

The assertion that the Athenians were " a religious people " 
will, to many of our readers, appear a strange and startling 
utterance, which has in it more of novelty than truth. Nay, 
some will be shocked to hear the Apostle Paul described as 
complimenting these Athenians — these pagan worshippers — 
on their "carefulness in religion." We have been so long ac- 
customed to use the word " heathen " as an opprobrious epithet 
— expressing, indeed, the utmost extremes of ignorance, and 
barbarism, and cruelty, that it has become difficult for us to be- 
lieve that in a heathen there can be any good. 

From our childhood we have read in our English Bibles, 
" Ye men of Athens, I perceive in all things ye are too super- 

* Lange's Commentary, in loco. 

' " 'ilq before detoid. — so imports. I recognize you as such." — Lange's 
Commentary. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 



103 



stitious^^ and we can scarcely tolerate another version, even if 
it can be shown that it approaches nearer to the actual lan- 
guage employed by Paul. We must, therefore, ask the patience 
and candor of the reader, while we endeavor to show, on the 
authority of Paul's words, that the Athenians were a " religious 
people," and that all our notions to the contrary are founded 
on prejudice and misapprehension. 

First, then, let us commence even with our English version : 
"Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too 
superstitious r And what now is the meaning of the word 
" superstition ?" It is true, we now use it only in an evil sense, 
to express a belief in 'the agency of invisible, capricious, malig- 
nant powers, which fills the mind with fear and terror, and sees 
in every unexplained phenomenon of nature an omen, or prog- 
nostic, of some future evil. But this is not its proper and orig- 
inal meaning. Superstition is from the Latin superstitio^ which 
means a superabundance of religion,^ an extreme exactitude 
in religious observance. And this is precisely the sense in 
which the corresponding Greek term is used by the Apostle 
Paul. AEiffidai/iovia properly means "reverence for the gods." 
" It is used," says Barnes, " in the classic writers, in a good 
sense, to denote piety towards the gods, or suitable fear and 
reverence for them." " The word," says Lechler, "is, without 
doubt, to be understood here in a good sense ; although it 
seems to have been intentionally chosen, in order to indicate 
the conception of /ear (hidu)), which predominated in the relig- 
ion of the apostle's hearers.'"' This reading is sustained by 
the ablest critics and scholars of modern times. Bengel reads 
the sentence, " I perceive that ye are wry religious. ^^^ Cudworth 
translates it thus : "Ye are every way more than ordinarily re- 
ligiousJ^^ Conybeare and Howson read the text as we have 
already given it, " All things which I behold bear witness to 

^ Nitzsch, *' System of Christ. Doctrine," p. 33. 

^ Lange's Commentary, in loco. 

^ " Gnomon of the New Testament." 

■* " Intellectual System," vol. i. p. 626. 



104 CHRISTIANITY AND 

your carefulness in religion"^ Lechler reads "very devout;"^ 
Alford, " carrying your religiaus reverence very far ;'"'^ and Albert 
Barnes,* " I perceive ye are greatly devoted to reverence for re- 
ligioftr'' Whoever, therefore, will give attention to the actual 
words of the apostle, and search for their real meaning, must 
be convinced he opens his address by complimenting the 
Athenians on their being more than ordinarily religious. 

Nor are we for a moment to suppose the apostle is here 
dealing in hollow compliments, or having recourse to a "pious 
fraud." Such a course would have been altogether out of 
character with Paul, and to suppose him capable of pursuing 
such a course is to do him great injustice. If " to the Jews he 
became as a Jew," it was because he recognized in Judaism 
the same fundamental truths which underlie the Christian sys- 
tem. And if here he seems to become, in any sense, at one 
with " heathenism," that he might gain the heathen to the faith 
of Christ, it was because he found in heathenism some elements 
of truth akin to Christianity, and a state of feeling favorable 
to an inquiry into the truths he had to present. He beheld in 
Athens an altar reared to the God he worshipped, and it afford- 
ed him some pleasure to iind that God was. not totally forgot- 
ten, and his worship totally neglected, by the Athenians. The 
God whom they knew imperfectly, "ZT/;;/," said he, " I declare 
unto you ;" I now desire to make him more fully known. The 
worship of " the Unknown God " was a recognition of the being 
of a God whose nature transcends all human thought, a God 
who is ineffable ; who, as Plato said, " is hard to be discovered, 
and having discovered him, to make him known to all, impos- 
sible."" It is the confession of a want of knowledge, the ex- 
pression of a desire to know, the acknowledgment of the duty 
of worshipping him. Underlying all the forms of idol-worship 
the eye of Paul recognized an influential Theism. Deep down 
in the pagan heart he discovered a " feeling after God " — a 

• " Life and Epistles of St. Paul," vol. i. p. 378. 

' Lange's Commentary. ^ Greek Test. * Notes on Acts. 

' Also Clarke's Comment., in loco. ® Timaeus, ch. ix. 



GREEK rHILOSOPHY. 105 

yearning for a deeper knowledge of .the " unknown," the invisi- 
ble, the incomprehensible, which he could not despise or disre- 
gard. The mysterious sentiments of fear, of reverence, of con- 
scious dependence on a supernatural power and presence 
overshadowing man, which were expressed in the symbolism 
of the "sacred objects " which Paul saw everywhere in Athens, 
commanded his respect. And he alludes to their " devotions," 
not in the language of reproach or censure, but as furnishing 
to his own mind the evidence of the strength of their religious 
instincts, and the proof of the existence in their hearts of that 
native apprehension of the supernatural, the divine, which dwells 
alike in all human soiils. 

The case of the Athenians has, therefore, a peculiar interest 
to every thoughtful mind. It confirms the belief that religion 
is a necessity to every human mind, a want of every human 
heart. ^ Without religion, the nature of man can never be prop- 
erly developed ; the noblest part of man — the divine, the spir- 
itual element which dwells in man, as " the offspring of God " 
— must remain utterly dwarfed. The spirit, the personal be- 
ing, the rational nature, is religious, and Atheism is the vain 
and the wicked attempt to be something less than man. If 
the spiritual nature of man has its normal and healthy devel- 
opment, he must become a worshipper. This is attested by 
the universal history of man. We look down the long-drawn 
aisles of antiquity, and everywhere we behold the smoking altar, 
the ascending incense, the prostrate form, the attitude of devo- 
tion. Athens, with her four thousand deities — Rome, with her 
crow^ded Pantheon of gods — Egypt, with her degrading super- 
stitions — Hindostan, with her horrid and revolting rites — all 
attest that the religious principle is -deeply seated in the nature 
of man. And we are sure religion can never be robbed of her 
supremacy, she can never be dethroned in the hearts of men. 
It were easier to satisfy the cravings of hunger by logical syllo- 

* The indispensable necessity for a religion of some kind to satisfy the 
emotional nature of man is tacitly confessed by the atheist Comte in the 
publication of his " Catechism of Positive Religion." 



Io6 CHRISTIANITY AND 

gisms, than to satisfy the yearnings of the human heart with- 
out religion. The attempt of Xerxes to bind the rushing floods 
of the Hellespont in chains was not more futile nor more im- 
potent than the attempt of skepticism to repress the universal 
tendency to worship, so pecuHar and so natural to man in 
every age and cHme. 

The unwillingness of many to recognize a religious element 
in the Athenian mind is further accounted for by their miscon- 
ception of the meaning of the word "religion." We are all 
too much accustomed to regard religion as a mere system of 
dogmatic teaching. We use the terms " Christian religion," 
"Jewish religion," "Mohammedan religion," as comprehend- 
ing simply the characteristic doctrines by which each is distin- 
guished ; whereas religion is a mode of thought, and feeling, 
and action, determined by the consciousness of our relation to 
and our dependence upon God. It does not appropriate to 
itself any specific department of our mental powers and sus- 
ceptibilities, but it conditions the entire functions and circle 
of our spiritual life. It is not simply a mode of conceiving 
God in thought, nor simply a mode of venerating God in the 
affections, nor yet simply a mode of worshipping God in out- 
ward and formal acts, but it comprehends the whole. Religion 
(religere^ respect, awe, reverence) regulates our thoughts, feel- 
ings, and acts towards God. " It is a reference and a relation- 
ship of our finite consciousness to the Creator and Sustainer 
and Governor of the universe." It is such a consciousness of 
the Divine as shall awaken in the heart of man the sentiments 
of reverence, fear, and gratitude towards God j such a sense of 
dependence as shall prompt man to pray, and lead him to per- 
form external acts of worship. 

Religion does not, therefore, consist exclusively in knowl- 
edge, however correct ; and yet it must be preceded and ac- 
companied by some intuitive cognition of a Supreme Being, 
and some conception of him as a free moral personality. But 
the religious sentiments, which belong rather to the heart than 
to the understanding of man — the consciousness of depend- 



aB^EEK PHILOSOPHY. 107 

ence, the sense of obligation, the feeUng of reverence, the in- 
stinct to pray, the appetency to worship — these may all exist 
and be largely developed in a human mind even when, as in 
the case of the Athenians, there is a very imperfect knowledge 
of the real character of God. 

Regarding this, then, as the generic conception of religion, 
namely, that it is a mode of thought and feeling and action deter- 
mined by our consciousness of dependence on a Supreme Being, 
we claim that the apostle was perfectly right in compliment- 
ing the Athenians on their " more than ordinary religiousness," 
for, 

I. They had, in some degree at least, that faith in the being 
and providence of God which precedes and accompanies all re- 
ligion. 

They had erected an altar to the unseen, the unsearchable, 
the incomprehensible, the unknown God. And this " unknown 
God " whom the Athenians " worshipped " was the j;rue God, 
the God whom Paul worshipped, and whom he desired more 
fully to reveal to them; '''Him declare I unto you." The 
Athenians had, therefore, some knowledge of the true God, 
some dim recognition, at least, of his. being, and some concep- 
tion, however imperfect, of his character. The Deity to whom 
the Athenians reared this altar is called " the unknown God," 
because he is unseen by all human eyes and incomprehensible 
to human thought. There is a sense in which to Paul, as well 
as to the Athenians — to the Christian as well as to the pa- 
gan — to the philosopher as well as to the peasant — God is 
'"'' the unknown^^ and in which he must forever remain the 
incomprehensible. This has been confessed by all thought- 
ful minds in every age. It was confessed by Plato. To his 
mind God is "the ineffable," the unspeakable. Zophar, the 
friend of Job, asks, " Canst thou by searching find out God t 
Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection ?" This knowl- 
edge is " high as heaven ; what canst thou do ? deeper than 
hell j what canst thou know ?" Does not Wesley teach us to 
sing. 



lo8 CHRISTIANITY InD 

** Hail, Father, whose creating call 
Unnumbered worlds attend ; 
Jehovah, comprehending all, 

Whom none can comprehend ?" 

To his mind, as well as to the mind of the Athenian, God was 
"the great unseen, unknown." " Beyond the universe and 
man," says Cousin, " there remains in God something unknown, 
impenetrable, incomprehensible. Hence, in the immeasurable 
spaces of the universe, and beneath all the profundities of the 
human soul, God escapes us in this inexhaustible infinitude, 
whence he is able to draw without limit new worlds, new be- 
ings, new manifestations. God is therefore to us incomprehensi- 
ble."^ And without making ourselves in the least responsible 
for Hamilton's " negative " doctrine of the Infinite, or even re- 
sponsible for the full import of his words, we may quote his re- 
markable utterances on this subject : " The Divinity is in part 
concealed and in part revealed. He is at once known and un- 
known. But the last and highest consecration of all true relig- 
ion must be an altar * to the unknown God.' In this consum- 
mation nature and religion. Paganism and Christianity, are at 
one.'"* 

When, therefore, the apostle afiirms that while the Athenians 
worshipped the God whom he proclaimed they " knew him not," 
we can not understand him as saying they were destitute of all 
faith in the being of God, and of all ideas of his real character. 
Because for him to have asserted they had no knowledge of 
God would not only have been contrary to all the facts of the 
case, but also an utter contradiction of all his settled convic- 
tions and his recorded opinions. There is not in modern 
times a more earnest asserter of the doctrine that the human 
mind has an intuitive cognition of God, and that the external 
world reveals God to man. There is a passage in his letter to 
the Romans which is justly entitled to stand at the head of all 
discourses on " natural theology," Rom. i. 19-21. Speaking of 
the heathen world, who had not been favored, as the Jews, with 

* '* Lectures," vol. i. p. 104. ^ " Discussions on Philosophy," p. 23. 



OBEEK PHILOSOPHT. 



109 



a verbal revelation, he says, " That which may be known of God 
is manifest in them," that is, in the constitution and laws of 
their spiritual nature, " for God hath showed it unto them " in 
the voice of reason and of conscience, so that in the instincts 
of our hearts, in the elements of our moral nature, in the ideas 
and laws of our reason, we are taught the being of a God. 
These are the subjective teachings of the human soul. 

Not only is the being of God revealed to man in the consti- 
tution and laws of his rational and moral nature, but God is 
also manifested to us objectively in the realm of things around 
us ; therefore Paul adds, " The invisible things of him, even his 
eternal power and Godhead, from the creation are clearly seen, 
being understood by the things that are made." The world of 
sense, therefore, discloses the being and perfections of God. 
The invisible attributes of God are made appElrent by the things 
that are visible. Forth out of nature, as the product of the Di- 
vine Mind, the supernatural shines. The forces, laws, and har- 
monies of the universe are indices of the presence of a presid- 
ing and informing Intelligence. The creation itself is an exam- 
ple of God's coming forth out of the mysterious depths of his 
own eternal and invisible being, and making himself apparent 
to man. There, on the pages of the volume of nature, we may 
read, in the marvellous language of symbol, the grand concep- 
tions, the glorious thoughts, the ideals of beauty which dwell in 
the uncreated Mind. These two sources of knowledge — the sub- 
jective teachings of God in the human soul, and the objective 
manifestations of God in the visible universe — harmonize, and, 
together, fill up the complement of our natural idea of God. 
They are two hemispheres of thought, which together form one 
full-orbed fountain of light, and ought never to be separated in 
our philosophy. And, inasmuch as this divine light shines on 
all human minds, and these works of God are seen by all hu- 
man eyes, the apostle argues that the heathen world " is with- 
out excuse, because, knowing God {yvovreQ top Qeov), they did 
not glorify him as God, neither were thankful ; but in their rea- 
sonings they went astray after vanities, and their hearts, being 



no CHRISTIANITY AND 

void of wisdom, were filled with darkness. Calling themselves 
wise, they were turned into fools, and changed the glory of the 
imperishable God for idols graven in the likeness of perishable 
man, or of birds, and beasts, and creeping things, . . . and 
they bartered the truth of God for lies, and reverenced and 
worshipped the things made rather than the Maker, who is bless- 
ed forever. Amen."^ 

The brief and elliptical report of Paul's address on Mars' 
Hill must therefore, in all fairness, be interpreted in the light 
of his more carefully elaborated statements in the Epistle to 
the Romans. And when Paul intimates that the Athenians 
" knew not God," we can not understand him as saying they 
had fio knowledge, but that their knowledge was imperfect. 
They did not know God as Creator, Father, and Ruler ; above 
all, they did not know him as a pardoning God and a sanctify- 
ing Spirit. They had not that knowledge of God which purifies 
the heart, and changes the character, and gives its possessor 
eternal life. 

The apostle clearly and unequivocally recognizes this truth, 
that the idea of God is connatural to the human mind j that 
in fact there is not to be found a race of men upon the face of 
the globe utterly destitute of some idea of a Supreme Being. 
Wherever human reason has had its normal and healthful de- 
velopment, it has spontaneously and necessarily led the human 
mind to the recognition of a God. The Athenians were no ex- 
ception to this general law. They believed in the existence of 
one supreme and eternal Mind, invisible, incomprehensible, in- 
effable — " the unknown God." 

2. The Athenians had also that consciousness of dependence 
upon God which is the foundation of all the primary religious 
emotions. 

When the apostle affirmed that " in God we live, and move, 

and have our being," he uttered the sentiments of many, if not 

all, of his hearers, and in support of that affirmation he could 

quote the words of their own poets, "for we are also his off- 

* Rom. i. 21-25, Conybeare and Howson's translation. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. Ill 

spring ;'" and, as his offspring, we have a derived and a depend- 
ent being. Indeed, this consciousness of dependence is anal- 
ogous to the feehng which is awakened in the heart of a child 
when its parent is first manifested to its opening mind as the 
giver of those things which it immediately needs, as its continu- 
al protector, and as the preserver of its hfe. The moment a 
man becomes conscious of his own personality, that moment he 
becomes conscious of some relation to another personality, to 
which he is subject, and on which he depends.^ 

A little reflection will convince us that this is the necessary 
order in which human consciousness is developed. 

There are at least two fundamental and radical tendencies 

^ "Jove's presence fills all space, upholds this ball ; 

All need his aid; his power sustains us all, 
For we his offspring are^ 

Aratus, " The Phasnoraena," book v. p. 5. 

Aratus was a poet of Cilicia, Paul's native province. He flourished B.C. 277. 

" Great and divine Father, whose names are many, 
But who art one and the same unchangeable, almighty power ; 
O thou supreme Author of nature ! 
That governest by a single unerring law ! 
Hail King ! 
For thou art able, to enforce obedience from all frail mortals, 
Because we are^dll thine offspring, 
The image and the echo only of thy eternal voice." 

Cleanthes, " Hymn to Jupiter." 

Cleanthes was the pupil of Zeno, and his successor as chief of the Stoic 
philosophers. 

^ " As soon as a man becomes conscious of himself, as soon as he per- 
ceives himself as distinct from other persons and things, he at the same mo- 
ment becomes conscious of a higher self, a higher power, without which he 
feels that neither he nor any thing else would have any life or reality. We 
are so fashioned that as soon as we awake we feel on all sides our depend- 
ence on something else ; and all nations join in some way or another in the 
words of the Psalmist, ' It is He that made us, not we ourselves.' This is 
the first sense of the Godhead, the sensus numinis, as it has well been called ; 
for it is a sensus, an immediate perception, not the result of reasoning or 
generalization, but an intuition as irresistible as the impressions of our 
senses. . . . This sensus numinis, or, as we may call it in more homely lan- 
guage, yaz//^, is the source of all religion ; it is that without which no religion, 
whether true or false, is possible." — Max Miiller, " Science of Language," 
Second Series, p. 455. 



112 CHRISTIANITY AND 

in human personality, namely, to htow and to ad. If we would 
conceive of them as they exist in the innermost sphere of self- 
hood, we must distinguish the first as self -consciousness, and the 
second as self-determination. These are unquestionably the two 
factors of human personality. 

If we consider the first of these factors more closely, we shall 
discover that self-consciousness exists under limitations and 
conditions. Man can not become clearly conscious of self with- 
out distinguishing himself from the outer world of sensation, nor 
without distinguishing self and the world from another being 
upon whom they depend as the ultimate substance and cause. 
Mere cosncBsthesis is not consciousness. Common feeling is un- 
questionably found among the lowest forms of animal life, the 
protozoa, but it can never rise to a clear consciousness of per- 
sonality until it can distinguish itself from sensation, and acquire 
a presentiment of a divine power, on which self and the outer 
world depend. The Ego does not exist for itself, can not per- 
ceive itself, but by distinguishing itself from the ceaseless flow 
and change «ot sensation, and by this act of distinguishing, the 
Ego takes place in consciousness. And the Ego can not per- 
ceive itself, nor cognize sensation as a state or affection of the 
Ego except by the intervention of the reason, which supplies 
the two great fundamental laws of causality and substance. 
The facts of consciousness thus comprehend three elements — 
self, nature, and God. The determinate being, the Ego, is never 
an absolutely independent being, but is always in some way or 
other codetermined by another ; it can not, therefore, be an ab- 
solutely original and independent, but must in some way or 
another be a derived and conditioned existence. 

Now that which limits and conditions human self-conscious- 
ness can not be mere- nature, because nature can not give what 
it does not possess ; it can not produce what is toto ge?iere dif- 
ferent from itself. Self-consciousness can not arise out of un- 
consciousness. This new beginning is beyond the power of 
nature. Personal power, the creative principle of all new be- 
ginnings, is alone adequate to its production. If, then, self- 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 1 13 

consciousness exists in man, it necessarily presupposes an ab- 
solutely original^ therefore tmconditioned, self -consciousness. Hu- 
man self-consciousness, in its temporal actualization, of course 
presupposes a nature-basis upon which it elevates itself; but 
it is only possible on the ground that an eternal self-conscious 
Mind ordained and rules over all the processes of nature, and 
implants the divine spark of the personal spirit with the corpo- 
real frame, to realize itself in the light-flame of human self-con- 
sciousness. The original light of the divine self-consciousness 
is eternally and absolutely first and before all. " Thus, in the 
depths of our own self-consciousness, as its concealed back- 
ground, the God-consciousness reveals itself to us. This de- 
scent into our inmost being is at the same time an ascent to God. 
Every deep reflection on ourselves breaks through the mere 
crust of world-consciousness, which separates us from the in- 
most truth of our existence, and leads us up to Him in whom 
we live and move and are."^ 

Self-determination, equally with self-consciousness, exists in 
us under manifold limitations. Self-determination is limited 
by physical, corporeal, and mental conditions, so that there is 
" an impassable boundary line drawn around the area of voli- 
tional freedom." But the most fundamental and original lim- 
itation is that oi duty. The self-determining power of man is 
not only circumscribed by necessary conditions, but also by 
the moral law in the consciousness of man. Self-determination 
alone does not suffice for the full conception of responsible 
freedom ; it only becomes, will, properly by its being an intel- 
ligent and conscious determination ; that is, the rational subject 
is able previously to recognize " the right," and present before 
his mind that which he ought to do, that which he is morally 
bound to realize and actualize by his own self-determination 
and choice. Accordingly we find in our inmost being a sense 
of obligation to obey the moral law as revealed in the con- 
science. . As we can not become conscious of self without also 
becoming conscious of God, so we can not become properly 
^ Miiller, " Christian Doctrine of Sin," vol. i. p. 81. 
8 



114 CHRISTIANITY AND 

conscious of self-determination until we have recognized in the 
conscience a law for the movements of the will. 

Now this moral law, as revealed in the conscience, is not a 
mere autonomy — a simple subjective law having no relation to 
a personal lawgiver out of and above man. Every admonition 
of conscience directly excites the consciousness of a God to 
whom man is accountable. The universal consciousness of 
our race, as revealed in history, has always associated the phe- 
nomena of conscience with the idea of a personal Power above 
man, to whom he is subject and upon whom he depends. In 
every age, the voice of conscience has been regarded as the 
voice of God, so that when it has filled man with guilty appre- 
hensions, he has had recourse to sacrifices^ and penances, and 
prayers to expatiate his wrath. 

It is clear, then, that if man has duties there must be a 
self-conscious Will by whom these duties are 'imposed, for only 
a real will can be legislative. If man has a sense of obligation, 
there must be a supreme authority by which he is obliged. If 
he is responsible, there must be a being to whom he is account- 
able. ^ It can not be said that he is accountable to himself, for 
by that supposition the idea of duty is obliterated, and " right " 
becomes identical with mere interest or pleasure. It can not 
be said that he is simply responsible to society — to mere con- 
ventions of human opinions and human governments — for then 
" right " becomes a mere creature of human legislation, and 
^^ justice " is nothing but the arbitrary will of the strong who 
tyrannize over the weak. Might constitutes right. Against 
such hypotheses the human mind, however, instinctively revolts. 
Mankind feel, universally, that there is an authority beyond all 
human governments, and a higher law above all human laws, 
from whence all their powers are derived. That higher law is 
the Law of God, that supreme authority is the God of Justice. 
To this eternally just God, innocence, under oppression and 
wrong, has made its proud appeal, like that of Prometheus to 

The thought of God will wake up a terrible monitor whose name is 
Judge."— Kant. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 1 15 

the elements, to the witnessing clouds, to coming ages, and has 
been sustained and comforted. And to that higher law the 
weak have confidently appealed against the unrighteous enact- 
ments of the strong, and have finally conquered. The last and 
inmost ground of all obligation is thus the conscious relation 
of the moral creature to God. The sense of absolute depend- 
ence upon a Supreme Being compels man, even while conscious 
of subjective freedom, to recognize at the same time his obli- 
gation to determine himself in harmony with the will of Him 
" in whom we live, and move, and are." 

This feeling of dependence, and this consequent sense of 
obligation, lie at the very foundation of all religion. They lead 
the mind towards God, and anchor it in the Divine. They 
prompt man to pray, and inspire him with an instinctive con- 
fidence in the efiicacy of prayer. So that prayer is natural to 
man, and necessary to man. Never yet has the traveller found 
a people on earth without prayer. Races of men have been 
found without houses, without raiment, without arts and sci- 
ences, but never without prayer any more than without speech. 
Plutarch wrote, eighteen centuries ago, " If you go through all 
the world, you may find cities without walls, without letters, 
without rulers, without money, without theatres, but never with- 
out temples and gods, or without prayers, oaths, prophecies, 
and sacrifices, used to obtain blessings and benefits, or to avert 
curses and calamities.^ The naturalness of prayer is admitted 
even by the modern unbeliever. Gerrit Smith says, " Let us 
who believe that the religion of reason calls for the religion of 
nature, remember that the flow of prayer is just as natural as 
the flow of water ; the prayerless man has become an unnat- 
ural man."^ Is man in sorrow or in danger, his most natural 
and spontaneous refuge is in prayer. The suffering, bewilder- 
ed, terror-stricken soul turns towards God. "Nature in an 
agony is no atheist ; the soul that knows not where to fly, flies 
to God." And in the hour of deliverance and joy, a feeling of 
gratitude pervades the soul — and gratitude, too, not to some 
* " Against Kalotes," ch. xxxi. ^ " Religion of Reason." 



Il6 CHBISTIANITT AND 

blind nature-force, to some unconscious and impersonal power, 
but gratitude to God. The soul's natural and appropriate lan- 
guage in the hour of deliverance is thanksgiving and praise. 

This universal tendency to recognize a superior Power upon 
whom we are dependent, and by whose hand our well-being 
and our destinies are absolutely controlled, has revealed itself 
even amid the most complicated forms of polytheistic w^orship. 
Amid the even and undisturbed flow of every-day life they 
might be satisfied with the worship of subordinate deities, but in 
the midst of sudden and unexpected calamities, and of terrible 
catastrophes, then they cried to the Supreme God.^ "When 
alarmed by an earthquake," says Aulus Gellitis, " the ancient 
Romans were accustomed to pray, not to someone of the gods 
individually, but to God in general, as to the Unknowny^ 

"Thus also Minutius Felix says, 'When they stretch out 
their hands to heaven they mention only God ; and these forms 
of speech. He is great, and God is true, and If God grant (which 
are the natural language of the vulgar), are a plain confession 
of the truth of Christianity.' And also Lactantius testifies, 
* When they swear, and when they wish, and when they give 
thanks, they name not many gods, but God only ; the truth, by 
a secret force of nature, thus breaking forth from them whether 
they will or no ;' and again he says, ' They fly to God ; aid is 
desired of God ; they pray that God would help them j and 
when one is reduced to extreme necessity, he begs for God's 
sake, and by his divine power alone implores the mercy of 
men.' "^ The account which is given by Diogenes Laertius* of 
the erection of altars bearing the inscription " to the unknown 
God," clearly shows that they had their origin in this general 
sentiment of dependence on a higher Power. " The Athenians 

^ ** At critical moments, when the deepest feelings of the human heart are 
stirred, the old Greeks and Romans seem suddenly to have dropped all 
mythological ideas, and to have fallen back on the universal language of true 
religion." — Max Miiller, '* Science of Language," p. 436. 

' Tholuck, " Nature and Influence of Heathenism," p. 23. 

^ Cudworth, vol. i. p. 300. 

* " Lives of Philosophers," book i., Epimenides. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 1 17 

being afflicted with pestilence invited Epimenides to lustrate 
their city. The method adopted by him was to carry several 
sheep to the Areopagus, whence they were left to wander as 
they pleased, under the observation of persons sent to attend 
them. As each sheep lay down it was sacrificed to the propi- 
tious God. By this ceremony it is said the city was relieved ; 
but as it was still unknown what deity was propitious, an altar 
was erected to the unknown God on every spot where a sheep 
had been sacrificed."^ 

" The unknown God " was their deliverer from the plague. 
And the erection of an altar to him was a confession of their 
absolute dependence upon him, of their obligation to worship 
him, as well as of their need of a deeper knowledge of him. 
The gods who were known and named were not able to deliver 
them in times of calamity, and they were compelled to look be- 
yond the existing forms of Grecian mythology for relief Be- 
yond all the gods of the Olympus there was " one God over 
all," the Father of gods and men, the Creator of all the subor- 
dinate local deities, upon whom even these created gods were 
dependent, upon whom man was absolutely dependent, and 
therefore in times of deepest need, of severest suffering, of ex- 
tremest peril, then they cried to the living, supreme, eternal 
God.^ 

3. The Athenians developed in a high degree those religious 
emotions which always accompany the consciousness of de- 
pendence on a Supreme Being. 

The first emotional element of all religion is fear. This is 
unquestionably true, whether religion be considered from a 

^ See Townsend's " Chronological Arrangement of New Testament," note 
19, part xii.; Doddridge's "Exposition;" and Barnes's ".Notes on Acts." 

"^ " The men and women of the Iliad and Odyssey are habitually religious. 
The language of religion is often on their tongues, as it is ever on the lips of 
every body in the East at this day. The thought of the gods, and of their 
providence and government of the world, is a familiar thought. They seem 
to have an abiding conviction'of their dependence on the gods. The results 
of all actions depend on the will of the gods ; it lies on their knees (deuv h 
yovvaci Keirat, Od. i. 267), is the often repeated and significant expression of 
their feeling of dependence. "-^Tyler, "Theology of Greek Poets," p. 165. 



1 1 8 CHRIS TIA NIT Y AND 

Christian or a heathen stand-point " The fear of the Lord is 
the beginning of wisdom." Associated with, perhaps preced- 
ing, all definite ideas of God, there exists in the human mind 
certain feelings of awe, and revere?ice, and fear which arise 
spontaneously in presence of the vastness, and grandeur, and 
magnificence of the universe, and of the power and glory of 
which the created universe is but the symbol and shadow. 
There is the felt apprehension that, beyond and back of the 
visible and the tangible, there is a personal, living Power, which 
is the foundation of all, and which fashions all, and fills all 
with its light and life ; that " the universe is the living vesture 
in which the Invisible has robed his mysterious loveliness." 
There is the feeling of an overs hadowi?tg Presence which " com- 
passeth man behind and before, and lays its hand upon him." 
This wonderful presentiment of an invisible power and pres- 
ence pervading and informing all nature is beautifully described 
by Wordsworth in his history of the development of the Scottish 
herdsman's mind : 

" So the foundations of his mind were laid 
In such communion, not from terror free. 
While yet a child, and long before his time, 
Had he perceived the presence and the power 
Of greatness ; and deep feelings had impressed 
So vividly great objects, that they lay 
Upon his mind like substances, whose presence 
Perplexed the bodily sense. 

In the after-day 

Of boyhood, many an hour in caves forlorn. 

And 'mid the hollow depths of naked crags, 

He sat, and even in their fixed lineaments, 

Or from the power of a peculiar eye, 

Or by creative feeling overborne, 

Or by predominance of thought oppressed, 

Even in their fixed and steady lineaments 

He traced an ebbing and a flowing mind 

Such was the Boy, — but for the growing Youth, 

What soul was his, when, from the naked top 

Of some bold headland, he beheld the sun 

Rise up, and bathe the world in light ! He looked ; 

Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth 

And ocean's liquid mass, in gladness lay 

Beneath him: far and wide the clouds were touched. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 119 

And in their silent faces could he read 
Unutterable love. Sound needed none, 
Nor any voice of joy ; his spirit drank 
. The spectacle : sensation, soul, and form 
All melted into him ; they swallowed up 
His animal being; in them did he live. 
And by them did he live ; they were his life. 
In such access of mind, in such high hour 
Of visitation from the living God."^ 

But it may be said this is all mere poetry ; to which we an- 
swer, in the words of Aristotle, " Poetry is a thing more phil- 
osophical and weightier than history. '"* The true poet is the 
interpreter of nature. His soul is in the fullest sympathy with 
the grand ideas which nature symbolizes, and he " deciphers 
the universe as the autobiography of the Infinite Spirit." 
Spontaneous feeling is a kind of inspiration. 

It is true that all minds may not be developed in precisely 
the same manner as Wordsworth's herdsman's, because the 
development of every individual mind is modified in some 
measure by exterior conditions. Men may contemplate nature 
from different points of view. Some may be impressed with one 
aspect of nature, some with another. But none will fail to rec- 
ognize a mysterious presence and invisible power beneath all 
the fleeting and changeful phenomena of the universe. " And 
sometimes there are moments of tenderness, of sorrow, and of 
vague mystery which bring the feeling of the Infinite Presence 
close to the human heart."^ 

Now we hold that this feeling and sentimefit of the Divine — 
the supernatural — exists in every mind. It may be, it undoubt- 
edly is, somewhat modified in its manifestations by the circum- 
stances in which men are placed, and the degree of culture they 
have enjoyed. The African Fetichist, in his moral and intel- 
lectual debasement, conceives a supernatural power enshrined 
in every object of nature. The rude Fijian regards with dread, 
and even terror, the Being who darts the lightnings and wields 
the thunderbolts. The Indian " sees God in clouds, and hears 
him in the wind." The Scottish " herdsman " on the lonely 
^ " The Wanderer." « Poet, ch. ix. ^ Robertson. 



I20 CHBISTIANITY AND 

mountain-top " feels the presence and the power of greatness," 
and " in its fixed and steady lineaments he sees an ebbing and 
a flowing mind." The philosopher* lifts his eyes to " the starry 
heavens" in all the depth of their concave, and with all their con- 
stellations of glory moving on in solemn grandeur, and, to his 
mind, these immeasurable regions seem " filled with the splen- 
dors of the Deity, and crowded with the monuments of his 
power ;" or he turns his eye to "the Moral Law within," and he 
hears the voice of an intelligent and a righteous God. In all 
these cases we have a revelation of the sentiment of the Divine, 
which dwells alike in all human minds. In the Athenians this 
sentiment was developed in a high degree. The serene heaven 
which Greece enjoyed, and which was the best-loved roof of its 
inhabitants, the brilliant sun, the mountain scenery of unsur- 
passed grandeur, the deep blue sea, an image of the infinite, 
these poured all their fullness on the Athenian mind, and fur- 
nished the most favorable conditions for the development of the 
religious sentiments. The people of Athens spent most of their 
time in the open air in communion with nature, and in the 
cheerful and temperate enjoyment of existence. To recognize 
the Deity in the living powers of nature, and especially in man, 
as the highest sensible manifestation of the Divine, was the pe- 
culiar prerogative of .the Grecian mind. And here in Athens, 
art also vied with nature to deepen the religious sentiments. 
It raised the mind to ideal conceptions of a beauty and a sub- 
limity which transcended all mere nature-forms, and by images 
of supernatural grandeur and loveliness presented to the Athe- 
nians symbolic representations of the separate attributes and op- 
erations of the invisible God. The plastic art of Greece was 
designed to express religious ideas, and was consecrated by re- 
ligious feeling. Thus the facts of the case are strikingly in har- 
mony with the words of the Apostle : " All things which I behold 
bear witness to your carefulness in religion," your "reverence 
for the Deity," your " fear of God."' " The sacred objects " in 

' Kant, in " Critique of Practical Reason." 

" Sec Parkhurst's Lexicon, under l^tLCLdatfiovia, which Suidas explains by 



GREEK PHILOSOPET, 121 

Athens, and especially " the altar to the Unknown God," were 
all regarded by Paul as evidences of their instinctive faith in 
the invisible^ the supernatural, the divine. 

Along with this sentiment of the Divine there is also associ- 
ated, in all human minds, an instijidive yearning after the Invisi- 
ble ; not a mere feeling of curiosity to pierce the mystery of be- 
ing and of life, but what Paul designates " a feeling after God," 
which prompts man to seek after a deeper knowledge, and a 
more immediate consciousness. To attain this deeper knowl-" 
edge — this more conscious realization of the being and the pres- 
ence of God, has been the effort of all philosophy and all relig- 
ion in all ages. The Hindoo Yogis proposes to withdraw into 
his inmost self, and by a complete suspension of all his active 
powers to become absorbed and swallowed up in the Infinite.^ 
Plato and his followers sought by an immediate abstraction to 
apprehend " the unchangeable and permanent Being," and, by 
a loving contemplation, to become " assimilated to the Deity," 
and in this way to attain the immediate consciousness of God. 
The Neo-Platonic mystic sought by asceticism and self-mortifi- 
cation to prepare himself for divine communings. He would 
contemplate the divine perfections in himself ; and in an ecstatic 
state, wherein all individuality vanishes, he would realize a un- 
ion, or identity, with the Divine Essence.^ While the universal 
Church of God, indeed, has in her purest days always taught 
that man may, by inward purity and a believing love, be render- 
ed capable of spiritually apprehending, and consciously feeling, 
the presence of God. Some may be disposed to pronounce 
this as all mere mysticism. We answer. The living internal 
energy of religion is always mystical, it is grounded in y^^///?^ — a 
^^ sensus numinis^'' common to humanity. It is the mysterious 

tv7A^ELa Tzepi to Qeiov — reverence for the Divine^ and Hesychius by ^o^oBua 
—fear of God. Also, Josephus, Antiq., book x. ch. iii. § 2 : " Manasseh, af- 
ter his repentance and reformation, strove to behave himself (r?7 deicidaLfiovia 
Xpfjadai) in the most religious manner towards God." Also see A. Clarke on 
Acts xvii. 

■* Vaughan, " Hours with the Mystics," vol. i. p. 44. 

' Id. ib., vol. i. p. 65. 



122 CHRISTIANITY AND 

sentiment of the Divine ; it is the prolepsis of the human spirit 
reaching out towards the Infinite ; the Uving susceptibiUty of our 
spiritual nature stretching after the powers and influences of 
the higher world. " It is upon this inner instinct of the super- 
natural that all religion rests. I do not say every religious idea, 
but whatever is positive, practical, powerful, durable, and popu- 
lar. Ever^'where, in all climates, in all epochs of history, and 
in all degrees of civilization, man is animated by the sentiment 
— I would rather say, the presentiment — that the world in which 
he lives, the order of things in the midst of which he moves, 
the facts which regularly and constantly succeed each other, are 
not all. In vain he daily makes discoveries and conquests in 
this vast universe ; in vain he observes and learnedly verifies 
the general laws which govern it ; his thought is not inclosed in 
the world surrendered to his science ; the spectacle of it does not 
suffice his soul, it is raised beyond it ; it searches after and 
catches glimpses of something beyond it ; it aspires higher both 
for the universe and itself; it aims at another destiny, another 
master. 

" * Par dela tous ces cieux le Dieu des cieux reside.' "^ 

So Voltaire has said, and the God who is beyond the skies is 
not nature personified, but a supernatural Personality. It is to 
this highest Personality that all religions address themselves. 
It is to bring man into communion with Him that they exist. "^ 

4. The Athenians had that deep consciousness of sin and 
guilt, and of consequent liability to punishment, which confesses 
the need of expiation by piacular sacrifices. 

Every man feels himself to be an accountable being, and he 
is conscious that in wrong-doing he is deserving of blame and 
of punishment. Deep within the soul of the transgressor is the 
consciousness that he is a guilty man, and he is haunted with 
the perpetual apprehension of a retribution which, like the 
spectre of evil omen, crosses his every path, and meets him at 
every turn. 

* " Beyond all these heavens the God of the heavens resides." 
' Guizot, ♦' L'Eglise et la Societe Chretiennes" en 1861. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 123 

"'Tis guilt alone, 
Like brain-sick frenzy in its feverish mode, 
Fills the light air with visionary terrors, 
And shapeless forms of fear." 

Man does not possess this consciousness of guilt so much 
as it holds possession of him. It pursues the fugitive from 
justice, and it lays hold on the man who has resisted or es- 
caped the hand of the executioner. The sense of guilt is a 
power over and above man ; a power so wonderful that it often 
compels the most reckless criminal to deliver himself up, with 
the confession of his deed, to the sword of justice, when a false- 
hood would have easily protected him. Man is only able by 
persevering, ever-repeated efforts at self-induration, against the 
remonstrances of conscience, to withdraw himself from its pow- 
er. His success is, however, but very partial ; for sometimes, 
in the moments o'f his greatest security, the reproaches of con- 
science break in upon him like a flood, and sweep away all his 
refuge of lies. " The evil conscience is the divine bond which 
binds the created spirit, even in deep apostasy, to its Original. 
In the consciousness of guilt there is revealed the essential re- 
lation of our spirit to God, although misunderstood by man un- 
til he has something higher than his evil conscience. The 
trouble and anguish which the remonstrances of this conscious- 
ness excite — the inward unrest which sometimes seizes the 
slave of sin — are proofs that he has not quite broken away 
from God."' 

In Grecian mythology there was a very distinct recognition 
of the power of conscience, and a reference of its authority to 
the Divinity, together with the idea of retribution. Nemesis 
was regarded as the impersonation of the upbraidings of con- 
science, of the natural dread of punishment that springs up in 
the human heart after the commission of sin. And as the 
feeling of remorse may be considered as the consequence of 
the displeasure and vengeance of an offended God, Nemesis 
came to be regarded as the goddess of retribution, relentlessly 
pursuing the guilty until she has driven them into irretrievable 
* MUUer, " Christian Doctrine of Sin," vol. i. pp. 225, 226. 



124 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



woe and ruin. The Erinyes or Eumenides are the deities 
whose business it is to punish, in hades, the crimes committed 
upon earth. When an aggravated crime has excited their dis- 
pleasure they manifest their greatest power in the disquietude 
of conscience. 

Along with this deep consciousness of guilt, and this fear of 
retribution which haunts the guilty mind, there has also rest- 
ed upon the heart of universal humanity a deep and abiding 
conviction that something must he done to expiate the guilt of 
sin — some restitution must be made, some suffering must be 
endured,^ some sacrifice offered to atone for past misdeeds. 
Hence it is that men in all ages have had recourse to penances 
and prayers, to self-inflicted tortures and costly sacrifices to 
appease a righteous anger which their sins had excited, and 
avert an impending punishment. That sacrifice to atone for 
sin has prevailed universally — that it has been practised " sem- 
per^ ubiqiie, et ab omnibus^^^ always, in all places, and by all men 
— will not be denied by the candid and competent inquirer. 
The evidence which has been collected from ancient history by 
Grotius and Magee, and the additional evidence from contem- 
poraneous history, which is being now furnished by the re- 
searches of ethnologists and Christian missionaries, is conclu- 
sive. No intelligent man can doubt the fact. Sacrificial ofier- 
ings have prevailed in every nation and in every age. "Al- 
most the entire worship of the pagan nations consisted in rites 
of deprecation. Fear of the Divine displeasure seems to have 
been the leading feature of their religious impressions ; and in 
the diversity, the costliness, the cruelty of their sacrifices they 

' " Punishment is the penalty due to sin ; or, to use the favorite expres- 
sion of Homer, not unusual in the Scriptures also, it is the payment of a 
debt incurred by sin. "When he is punished, the criminal is said to pay off 
or pay back (drror/ve^v) his crimes ; in other words, to expiate or atone for 
them (Iliad, iv. i6i, 162), 

a'vv re //eya/iw anhicav 
ol'v G<pi)aLv Ke^aTii^GL yvvai^i re Koi TEKeeaatv. 
that is, they shall pay off, pay back, atone, etc., for their treachery with a 
great price, with their lives, and their wives and children." — Tyler, " The- 
ology of Greek Poets," p. 194. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 125 

sought to appease gods to whose wrath they felt themselves 
exposed, from a consciousness of sin, unrelieved by any in- 
formation as to the means of escaping its effects."^ 

It must be known to every one at all acquainted with Greek 
mythology that the idea of expiation — atonement — was a funda- 
mental idea of tiieir religion. Independent of any historical 
research, a very slight glance at the Greek and Roman classics, 
especially the poets, who were the theologians of that age, can 
leave little doubt upon this head.* Their language everywhere 
announces the notion oi propitiation^ and, particularly the Latin, 
furnishes the terms which are still employed in theology. We 
need only mention the words t\a<r/xoe, iXaffKOfiai, Xvrpoy, 7r£pi\pr)- 
jxa, as examples from the Greek, 2ind p/acare, propitiare, expiare, 
piacidwn, from the Latin. All these indicate that the notion of 
expiation was interwoven into the very modes of thought and 
framework of the language of the ancient Greeks. 

We do not deem it needful to discuss at length the ques- 
tion which has been so earnestly debated among theologians, 
as to whether the idea of expiation be a primitive and necessary 
idea of the human mind, or whether the practice of piacular 
sacrifices came into the post-diluvian world with Noah, as a 

^ Magee, " On the Atonement," No. V. p. 30. 

^ In Homer the doctrine is expressly taught that the gods may, and some- 
times do, remit the penalty, when duly propitiated by prayers and sacrifices 
accompanied by suitable reparations (" Iliad," ix. 497 sqq.). " We have a 
practical illustration of this doctrine in the first book of the Iliad, where 
Apollo averts the pestilence from the army, when the daughter of his priest 
is returned without ransom, and a sacrifice {kKaroii^ri) is sent to the altar of 
the god at sacred Chrysa. . . . Apollo hearkens to the intercession of his 
priest, accepts the sacred hecatomb, is delighted with the accompanying 
songs and libations, and sends back the embassy with a favoring breeze, 
and a favorable answer to the army, who meanwhile had been purifying 
{a7re?iv/mivovTo) themselves, and offering unblemished hecatombs of bulls 
and goats on the shore of the sea which washes the place of their encamp- 
ment." 

"The object of the propitiatory embassy to Apollo is thus stated by 
Ulysses : Agamemnon, king of men, has sent me to bring back thy daughter 
Chryses, and to offer a sacred hecatomb for (vTrep) the Greeks, that we may 
propitiate [IXaao/ueada) the king, who now sends woes and many groans upon 
the Argives " (442 sqq.). — Tyler, " Theology of Greek Poets," pp. 196, 197. 



126 CHRISTIANITY AND 

positive institution of a primitive religion then first directly in- 
stituted by God. On either hypothesis the practice of expia- 
tory rites derives its authority from God ; in the latter case, by 
an outward and verbal revelation, in the former by an inward 
and intuitive revelation. 

This much, however, must be conceded on all hands, that 
there are certain fundamental intuitions, universal and neces- 
sary, which underlie the almost universal practice of expiatory 
sacrifice, namely, the tmiversal consciousness of guilt, and the 
universal conviction that something must be done to expiate guilt, 
to compensate for wrong, and to atone for past misdeeds. But 
how that expiation can be effected, how that atonement can be 
made, is a question which reason does not seem competent to 
answer. That personal sin can be atoned for by vicarious 
suffering, that national guilt can be expiated and national pun- 
ishment averted by animal sacrifices, or even by human sacri- 
fices, is repugnant to rather than conformable with natural rea- 
son. There exists no discernible connection between the one 
and the other. We may suppose that eucharistic, penitential, 
and even deprecatory sacrifices may have originated in the 
light of nature and reason, but we are unable to account for 
the practice of piacular sacrifices for substitutional atonement, 
on the same principle. The ethical principle, that one's own 
sins are not transferable either in their guilt or punishment, is 
so obviously just that we feel it must have been as clear to the 
mind of the Greek who brought his victim to be offered t'o Zeus, 
as it is to the philosophic mind of to-day.^ The knowledge 
that the Divine displeasure can be averted by sacrifice is not, 
by Plato, grounded upon any intuition of reason, as is the ex- 
istence of God, the idea of the true, the just, and good, but on 
" tradition,'" and the " interpretations " of Apollo. " To the 
Delphian Apollo there remains the greatest, noblest, and most 
important of legal institutions — the erection of temples, sacrifi- 

' " lie that hath clone the deed, to suffer for it — thus cries a proverb thrice 
hallowed by age."— TEschylus, "Choeph," 311. 
"^ " Laws," book vi. ch. xv. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 127 

ces, and other services to the gods, . . . and what other services 
should be gone through with a view to \h€\x propitiation. Such 
things as these, indeed, we neither know ourselves^ nor in found- 
ing the State would we intrust them to others, if we be wise ; . . . 
the god of the country is the natural interpreter to all men 
about such matters."^ 

The origin of expiatory sacrifices can not, we think, be ex- 
plained except on the principle of a primitive revelation and 
a positive appointment of God. They can not be understood 
except as a divinely-appointed symbolism, in which there is 
exhibited a confession of personal guilt and desert of punish- 
ment ; an intimation and a hope that God will be propitious 
and merciful ; and a typical promise and prophecy of a future 
Redeemer from sin, who shall " put away sin by the sacrifice 
of himself" This sacred rite was instituted in connection with 
the protevangelium given to our first parents ; it was diffused 
among the nations by tradition, and has been kept alive as a 
general, and, indeed, almost universal observance, by that deep 
sense of sin, and consciousness of guilt, and personal urgency 
of the need of a reconciliation, which are so clearly displayed 
in Grecian mythology. 

The legitimate inference we find ourselves entitled to draw 
from the words of Paul, when fairly interpreted in the light of 
the past religious history of the world, is, that the Athenians 
were a religious people ; that is, they were, however unknow- 
ing, believers in and worshippers of the One Supreme God. 

* " Republic," book iv. ch. v. 



CHEISTIANITY AND 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE RELIGION OF THE ATHENIANS : ITS MYTHOLOGICAL AND 
SYMBOLICAL ASPECTS. 

" That there is one Supreme Deity, both philosophers and poets, and even 
the vulgar worshippers of the gods themselves frequently acknowledge ; 
which because the assertors of gods well understood, they affirm these gods 
of theirs to preside over the several parts of the world, yet so that there is 
only one chief governor. Whence it follows,-that all their other gods can be 
no other than ministers and officers which one greatest God, who is omnipo- 
tent, hath variously appointed, and constituted, so as to serve his command." 
— Lactantius. 

THE conclusion reached in the previous chapter that the 
Athenians were beHevers in and worshippers of the One 
Supreme God, has been challenged with some considerable 
show of reason and force, on the ground that they were Folythe- 
ists and Idolaters. 

An objection which presents itself so immediately on the 
very face of the sacred narrative, and which is sustained by the 
unanimous voice of history, is entitled to the fullest considera- 
tion. And as the interests of truth are infinitely more precious 
than the maintenance of any theor)', however plausible, we are 
constrained to accord to this objection the fullest weight, and 
give to it the most impartial consideration. We can not do 
otherwise than at once admit that the Athenians were Polythe- 
ists — they worshipped "many gods" besides "the unknown 
God." It is equally true that they were Idolaters — they wor- 
shipped images or statues of the gods, which images were also, 
by an easy metonymy, called " gods." • 

But surely no one supposes that this is all that can be said 
upon the subject, and that, after such admissions, the discussion 
must be closed. On the contrary, we have, as yet, scarce 
caught a glimpse of the real character and genius of Grecian 



GREEK PHILOSOPEY. 129 

polytheistic worship, and we have not made the first approach 
towards a philosophy of Grecian mythology. 

The assumption that the heathen regarded the images 
" graven by art and device of man " as the real creators of the 
world and man, or as having any control over the destinies of 
men, sinks at once under the weight of its own absurdity. Such 
hypothesis is repudiated with scorn and indignation by the hea- 
thens themselves. Cotta, in Cicero, declares explicitly : " though 
it be common and familiar language amongst us to call corn 
Ceres, and wine Bacchus, yet who can think any one so mad 
as to take that to be really a god that he feeds upon ?"^ And 
Plutarch condemns the whole practice of giving the names of 
gods and goddesses to inanimate objects, as absurd, impious, 
and atheistical : " they who give the names of gods to sense- 
less matter and inanimate things, and such as are destroyed by 
men in the using, beget most wicked and atheistical opinions 
in the minds of men, since it can not be conceived how these 
things should be gods, for nothing that is inanimate is a god."^ 
And so also the Hindoo, the Buddhist, the American Indian, the 
Fijian of to-day, repel the notion that their visible images are 
real gods, or that they worship them instead of the unseen God. 

And furthermore, that even the invisible divinities which 
these images were designed to -represent, were each independ- 
ent, self-existent beings, and that the stories which are told 
concerning them by Homer and Hesiod were received in a 
literal sense, is equally improbable. The earliest philosophers 
knew as well as we know, that the Deity, in order to be Deity, 
must be either perfect or nothing — that he must be one, not 
many — without parts and passions ; and they were scandalized 
and shocked by the religious fables of the ancient mythology 
as much as we are. Xenophanes, who lived, as we know, before 
Pythagoras, accuses Homer and Hesiod of having ascribed to 
the gods every thing that is disgraceful amongst men, as steal- 
ing, adultery, and deceit. He remarks " that men seem to have 

^ Cudworth's " Intell. System," vol. ii. p. 257, Eng. ed. 
"^ .Quoted in Cudworth's " Intell. System," vol. ii. p. 258, Eng. ed. 
9 



130 



CIIRISTIAWITY AND 



created their gods, and to have given them their own mind, and 
voice, and figure." He himself declares that " God is 07ie, the 
greatest amongst gods and nien, neither in form nor in thought 
like unto men." He calls the battles of the Titans and the 
Giants, and the Centaurs, " the inventions of former genera- 
tions," and he demands that God shall be praised in holy 
songs and nobler strains.^ Diogenes Laertius relates the fol- 
lowing of Pythagoras, " that when he descended to the shades 
below, he saw the soul of Hesiod bound to a pillar of brass, 
and gnashing his teeth ; and that of Homer, as suspended on 
a tree, and surrounded by serpents ; as a punishment for the 
things they had said of the gods."'^ These poets, who had cor- 
rupted theology, Plato proposes to exclude from his ideal Re- 
public j or if permitted at all, they must be subjected to a rigid 
expurgation. "We shall," says he, "have to repudiate a large 
part of those fables which are now in vogue ; and, especiall}^, 
of what I call the greater fables, — the stories which Hesiod and 
Homer tell us. In these stories there is a fault which deserves 
the gravest condemnation ; namely, when an author gives a 
had representation of gods aiid he^-oes. We must condemn such 
a poet, as we should condemn a painter, whose pictures bear no 
resemblance to the objects which he tries to imitate. For in- 
stance, the poet Hesiod related an ugly story when he told how 
Uranus acted, and how Kronos had his revenge upon him. 
They are offensive stories, and must not be repeated in our 
cities. Not yet is it proper to say, in any case, — what is indeed 
untrue — that gods wage war against gods, and intrigue and 
fight among themselves. Stories like the chaining of Juno 
by her son Vulcan, and the flinging of Vulcan out of heaven 
for trying to take his mother's part when his father was beating 
her, and all other battles of the gods which are found in Homer, 
must be refused admission into our state, whether they are alle- 
gorical or not. For a child can not discriminate between what 
is allegorical and what is not ; and whatever is adopted, as a 

' Max Muller, " wScience of Language," pp. 405, 406. 
"^ " Lives," bk, viii, ch. xix. p. 347. 



GREEK FUILOSOPHT. 13 1 

matter of belief, in childhood, has a tendency to become fixed 
and indelible ; and therefore we ought to esteem it as of the 
greatest importance that the fables which children first hear 
should be adapted, as far as possible, to promote virtue."^ 

If, then, poetic and allegorical representations of divine 
things are to be permitted in the ideal republic, then the found- 
ers of the state are to prescribe "the moulds in which the poets 
are to cast their fictions." 

" Now what are these moulds to be in the case of Theology ? 
They may be described as follows : It is right always to rep- 
resent God as he really is, whether the poet describe him in an 
epic, or a lyric, or a dramatic poem. Now God is, beyond all 
else, good in reality^ and therefore so to be represented. But 
nothing that is good is hurtful. That which is good hurts not ; 
does no evil ; is the cause of no evil. That which is good is 
beneficial ; is the cause of good. And, therefore, that which 
is good is not the cause of all which is and happens, but only 

of that which is as it should be The good things we must 

ascribe to God,- w?iilst we must seek elsewhere, and not in him, 
the causes of evil things." 

"We must, then, express our disapprobation of Homer, or any 
other poet, who is guilty of such a foolish blunder as to tell us 
(Iliad, xxiv. 660) that 

" ' Fast by the threshold of Jove's court are placed 
Two casks — one stored with evil, one with good :' 

and that he for whom the Thunderer mingles both — 

" * He leads a life checkered with good and ill.' 

But as for the man to whom he gives the bitter cup unmixed — 

" * He walks 
The blessed earth unbless'd, go where he will.' 

And if any one asserts that the violation of oaths and treaties 
by the act of Pandarus was brought about by Athene and Zeus 
(Iliad, ii. 60), we should refuse our approbation. Nor can 
we allow it to be said that the strife and trial of strength be- 
* " Republic," bk. ii. ch. xvii. 



132 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



tween the gods (Iliad, xx.) was instigated by Themis and 
Zeus Such language can not be used without irrever- 
ence j it is both injurious to us, and contradictory in itself."^ 

"Inasmuch as God is perfect to the utmost in beauty and 
goodness, he abides ever the safne, and without any variation in 
his form. Then let no poet tell us that (Odyss. xvii. 582) 

** ' In similitude of strangers oft 
The Gods, who can with ease all shapes assume, 
Repair to populous cities.' 

And let no one slander Proteus and Thetis, or introduce in 
tragedies, or any other poems, Hera transformed into the guise 
of a princess collecting 

" ' Alms for the life-giving children of Inachus, river of Argos,' 
not to mention many other falsehoods which we must inter- 
dict."^ 

" When a poet holds such language concerning the gods, we 
shall be angry with him, and refuse him a chorus. Neither shall 
we allow our teachers to use his writings for the instruction of 
the young, if we would have our guards grow up to be as god- 
like and god-fearing as it is possible for men to be."^ 

We are thus constrained by the statements of the heathens 
themselves, as well as by the dictates of common sense, to look 
beyond the external drapery and the material forms of Poly- 
theism for some deeper and truer meaning that shall be more 
in harmony with the facts of the universal religious conscious- 
ness of our race. The religion of ancient Greece consisted in 
something more than the fables of Jupiter and Juno, of Apollo 
and Minerva, of Venus and Bacchus. " Through the rank and 
poisonous vegetation of mythic phraseology, we may always 
catch a glimpse of an original stem round which it creeps and 
winds itself, and without which it can not enjoy that parasitical 
existence which has been mistaken for independent vitality."* 

' " Republic," bk. ii. ch. xix. 

" *' Republic," bk. ii. ch. xx. Much more to the same effect may be seen 
in ch. ii. 

^ " Republic," bk. ii. ch. xxi. 

* Max MuUcr, " Science of Language," 2d series, p. 433. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 133 

It is an obvious truth, attested by the voice of universal 
consciousness as revealed in history, that the human mind can 
never rest satisfied within the sphere of sensible phenomena. 
Man is impelled by an inward necessity to pass, in thought, 
beyond the boundary-line of sense, and inquire after causes 
and entities which his reason assures him must lie beneath all 
sensible appearances. He must and will interpret nature ac- 
cording to the forms of his own personality, or according to the 
fundamental ideas of his own reason. In the childlike sub- 
jectivity of the undisciplined mind he will either transfer to na- 
ture the phenomena of his own personality, regarding the world 
as a living organism which has within it an informing soul, and 
thus attain z. pantheistic conception of the universe ; or else he 
will fix upon some extraordinary and inexplicable phenomenon 
of nature, and, investing it with supemz-trndl significance, will 
rise from thence to a religious and theocratic conception of na- 
ture as a whole. An intelligence — a mind within nature, and 
inseparable from nature, or else above nature and governing 
nature, is, for man, an inevitable thought. 

It is equally obvious that humanity can never relegate itself 
from a supernatural origin, neither can it ever absolve itself 
from a permanent correlation with the Divine. Man feels 
within him an instinctive nobility. He did not arise out of the 
bosom of nature; in some mysterious way he has descended 
from an eternal mind, he is "the offspring of God." And fiir- 
thermore, a theocratic conception of nature, associated with a 
pre-eminent regard for certain apparently supernatural experi- 
ences in the history of humanity, becomes the foundation of 
governments, of civil authority, and of laws. Society can not 
be founded without the aid of the Deity, and a commonwealth 
can only be organized by Divine interposition. "A Ceres 
must appear and sow the fields with corn." And a Numa or 
a Lycurgus must be heralded by the oracle as 

" Dear to Jove, and all who sit in the halls of the Olympus." 

He must be a " descendant of Zeus," appointed by the gods 



134 CHRISTIANITY AND 

to rule, and one who will "prove himself a god." These di- 
vinely-appointed rulers were regarded as the ministers of God, 
the visible representatives of the unseen Power which really 
governs all. The divine government must also have its invisi- 
"ble agents — its Nemesis, and Themis, and Dike, the ministers 
of law, of justice, and of retribution ; and its Jupiter, and Juno, 
and Neptune, and Pluto, ruling, with clelegated powers, in the 
heavens, the air, the sea, and the nethermost regions. So that, 
in fact, there exists no nation, no commonwealth, no history 
without a Theophany, and along with it certain sacred legends 
detailing the origin of the people, the government, the country 
itself, and the world at large. This is especially true of India, 
Egypt, Greece, and Rome. Their primitive history is eminent- 
ly mythological. ' 

Grecian polytheism can not be otherwise regarded than as 
a poetico-historical religion of myl/i and symbol which is under- 
laid by a natural Theism ; a parasitical growth which winds 
itself around the original stem of instinctive faith in a super- 
natural Power and Presence which pervades the universe. 
The myths are oral traditions, floating down from that dim 
twilight oi poetic history, which separates real history, wdth its 
fixed chronology, from the unmeasured and unrecorded eter- 
nity — faint echoes from that mystic border-land which divides 
the natural from the supernatural, and in w^hich they seem to 
have been marvellously commingled. They are the lingering 
memories of those manifestations of God to men, in which he 
or his celestial ministers came into visible intercourse with our 
race ; the reality of which is attested by sacred history. In 
all these myths there is a theogonic and cosmogonic element. 
They tell of the generation of the celestial and aerial divinities 
— the subordinate agents and ministers of the Divine govern- 
ment. They attempt an explanation of the genesis of the visi- 
ble universe, the origin of humanity, and the development of 
human society. In the presence of history, the substance of 
these myths is preserved by symbols, that is, by means of nat- 
ural or artificial, real or striking objects, which, by some analo- 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 135 

gy or arbitrary association, shall suggest the idea to the mind. 
These symbols were designed to represent the invisible attri- 
butes and operations of the Deity ; the powers that vitalize 
nature, that control the elements, that preside over cities, that 
protect the nations : indeed, all the agencies of the physical 
and moral government of God. Beneath all the pagan legends 
of gods, and underlying all the elaborate mechanism of pagan 
worship, there are unquestionably philosophical ideas, and the- 
ological conceptions, and religious sentiments, which give a 
meaning, and even a mournful grandeur to the whole. 

Whilst the pagan polytheistic worship is, under one aspect, 
to be regarded as a departure from God, inasmuch as it takes 
away the honor due to God alone, and transfers it to the crea- 
ture I still, under another aspect, we can not fail to recognize 
in it the effort of the human mind to fill up the chasm that 
seemed, to the undisciplined mind, to separate God and man — 
and to bridge the gulf between the visible and the invisible, 
the finite and the Infinite. It was unquestionably an attempt 
to bring God nearer to the sense and comprehension of man. 
It had its origin in that instinctive yearning after the super- 
natural, the Divine, which dwells in all human hearts, and 
which has revealed itself in all philosophies, mysticisms, and 
religions.^ This longing was stimulated by the contemplation 
of the living beauty and grandeur of the visible universe, which, 
to the lively fancy and deep feeling of the Greeks, seemed as 
the living vesture of the Infinite Mind, — the temple of the eter- 
nal Deity. In this visible universe the Divinity was partly re- 
vealed, and partly concealed. The unity of the all-pervading 
Intelligence was veiled beneath an apparent diversity of power, 
and a manifoldness of operations. They caught some glimpses 
of this universal presence in nature, but were more immediately 
and vividly impressed by the several manifestations of the di- 
vine perfections and divine operations, as so many separate 
rays of the Divinity, or so many subordinate agents and func- 

^ The original constitution of man is such that he " seeks after " God 
(Acts xvii. 27). " All men yearn after the gods " (Homer, " Odyss." iii. 48). 



136 CHRISTIANITY AND 

tionaries employed to execute the will and carry out the pur- 
poses of the Supreme Mind/ That unseen, incomprehensible 
Power and Presence was perceived in the sublimit}'' of the deep 
blue sky, the energy of the vitalizing sun, the surging of the 
sea, the rushing wind, the roaring thunder, the ripening corn, 
and the clustering vine. To these separate manifestations of 
the Deity they gave personal najnes, as Jupiter to the heavens, 
Juno to the air, Neptune to the sea, Ceres to the corn, and 
Bacchus to the vine. These personals denoted, not the things 
themselves, but the invisible, divine powers supposed to pre- 
side over those several departments of nature. By a kind of 
prosopopoeia " they spake of the things in nature, and parts of 
the world, as persons — and consequently as so many gods and 
goddesses — yet so as the intelligent might easily understand 
their meaning, that these were i7i reality 7iothing else hit so many 
names and notions of that one Niunen, — divine force and power 
which runs through all the world, multiformly displaying itself. ^^'^ 
" Their various deities were but different names, different con- 
ceptions, of that Incomprehensible Being which no thought can 
reach, and no language express."" Having given to these sev- 
eral manifestations of the Divinity personal names, they now 
sought to represent them to the eye of sense by visible forms, 
as the symbols or images of the perfections of the unseen, the 
incomprehensible, the unknown God. And as the Greeks re- 
garded man as the first and noblest among the phenomena of 
nature, they selected the human form as the highest sensible 
manifestation of God, the purest symbol of the Divinity. Gre- 

' " Heathenism springs directly from this, that the mind lays undue stress 
upon the bare letter in the book of creation ; that it separates and individu- 
alizes its objects as far as possible ; that it places the sense of the individual 
part, in opposition to the sense of the whole, — to the ajialogia fidei or spiritus 
which alone gives unity to the book of nature, while it dilutes and renders as 
transitory as possible the sense of the universal in the whole. . . . And as it 
laid great stress upon the letter in the book of nature, it fell into polytheism. 
The particular symbol of the divine, or of the Godhead, became a myth of 
some special deity."— Lange's " Bible-work," Genesis, p. 23. 

" Cudworth, " Intellect. System," vol. i. p. 308. 

' Max Midler, " Science of Language," p. 431. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 137 

cian polytheism was thus a species of mythical anthropomor- 
phism. 

A philosophy of Grecian mythology, such as we have out- 
lined in the preceding paragraphs, is, in our judgment, perfectly 
consistent with the views announced by Paul in his address to 
the Athenians. He intimates that the Athenians " thought that 
the Godhead was like unto {z.vai ofxoioy) — to be imaged or repre- 
sented by human art— by gold, and silver, and precious stone 
graven by art, and device of man ;" that is, they thought the 
perfections of God could be represented to the eye by an im- 
age, or symbol. The views of Paul are still more articulately 
expressed in Romans, i. 23, 25 : "They changed the glory of 
the incorruptible God into the similitude of an image of corrup- 
tible man, .... and they worshipped and served the thing made, 
Trapa — rather than, or more than the Creator." Here, then, the 
apostle intimates, first, that the heathen knew God,^ and that 
they worshipped God. They worshipped the creature besides or 
even more than God, but still they also worshipped God. And, 
secondly, they represented the perfections of God by an image, 
and under this, as a " likeness " or symbol, they indirectly wor- 
shipped God. Their religious system was, then, even to the 
eye of Paul, a symbolic worship — that is, the objects of their de- 
votion were the ofioiojiiara — the similitudes, the likenesses, the 
images of the perfections of the invisible God. 

It is at once conceded by us, that the " sensus numinis," the 
natural intuition of a Supreme Mind, whose power and pres- 
ence are revealed in nature, can not maintain itself, as an influ- 
ential, and vivifying, and regulative belief amongst men, with- 
out the continual supernatural interposition of God ; that is, 
without a succession of Divine revelations. And further, we 
grant that, instead of this symbolic mode of worship deepening 
and vitalizing the sense of God as a living power and presence, 
there is great danger that the symbol shall at length uncon- 
sciously take the place of God, and be worshipped instead of 
Him. From the purest form of symbolism which prevailed in 

^ Verse 21. 



138 CHRISTIANITY AND 

the earliest ages, there may be an inevitable descent to the 
rudest form of false worship, with its accompanying darkness, 
and abominations, and crimes ; but, at the same time, let us 
do justice to the religions of the ancient world — the childhood 
stammerings of religious life — which were something more than 
the inventions of designing men, or the mere creations of hu- 
man fancy ; they were, in the words of Paul, " a seeking after 
God, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, who is 
not far from any one of us." It can not be denied that the 
more thoughtful and intelligent Greeks regarded the visible 
objects of their devotion as mere symbols of the perfections 
and operations of the unseen God, and of the invisible powers 
and subordinate agencies which are employed by him in his 
providential and moral government of the world. And what- 
ever there was of misapprehension and of " ignorance " in the 
popular mind, we have the assurance of Paul that it was " over- 
looked^' by God. 

The views here presented will, we venture to believe, be 
found most in harmony with a true philosophy of the human 
mind ; with the religious phenomena of the world ; and, as we 
shall subsequently see, with the writings of those poets and 
philosophers who may be fairly regarded as representing the 
sentiments and opinions of the ancient world. At the same 
time, we have no desire to conceal the fact that this whole 
question as to the origin, and character, and philosophy of the 
mythology and symbolism of the religions of the ancient world 
has been a subject of earnest controversy from Patristic times 
down to the present hour, and that even to-day there exists a 
wide diversity of opinion among philosophers, as well as theo- 
logians. 

The principal theories offered may be classed as the ethical, 
\he physical, and the historical, according to the different objects 
the framers of the myths are supposed to have had in view.^ 
Some have regarded the myths as invented by the priests and 
wise men of old for the improvement and government of socie- 
^ Muller, " Science of Language," 2d series, p. 411. 



GREEK FBILOSOPHY. 



139 



ty, as designed to give authority to laws, and maintain social 
order.^ Others have regarded them as intended to be allegor- 
ical interpretations of physical phenomena — the poetic embodi- 
ment of the natural philosophy of the primitive races of men f 
whilst others have looked upon them as historical legends, 
having a substratum of fact, and, when stripped of the super- 
natural and miraculous drapery which accompanies fable, as 
containing the history of primitive times.^ Some of the latter 
class have imagined they could recognize in Grecian mythol- 
ogy traces of sacred personages, as well as profane; in fact, 
a dimmed image of the patriarchal traditions which are pre- 
served in the Old Testament scriptures.* 

It is beyond our design to discuss all the various theories 
presented, or even to give a history of opinions entertained.^ 
We are fully convinced that the hypothesis we have presented in 
the preceding pages, viz., that Grecian mythology was a grand 
symbolic representation of the Divine as manifested in nature and 
providence^ is the only hypothesis which meets and harmonizes 
all the facts of the case. This is the theory of Plato, of Cud- 
worth, Baumgarten, Max Mtiller, and many other distinguished 
scholars. 

There are two fundamental propositions laid down by Cud- 
worth which constitute the basis of this hypothesis. 

I. No well-authenticated instance can be furnished from among 
the Greek Polytheists of one who taught the existence of a multiplicity 
of independent^ uncreated, self existent deities ; they almost universally 

^ Empedocles, Metrodorus. "^ Aristotle. 

^ Hecataeus, Herodotus, some of the early Fathers, Niebuhr, J. H. Voss, 
Arnold. 

* Bochart, G. J. Vossius, Faber, Gladstone. 

^ To the English reader who desires an extended and accurate acquaint- 
ance with the classic and patristic literature of this deeply interesting sub- 
ject, we commend the careful study of Cudworth's " Intellectual System 
of the Universe," especially ch. iv. The style of Cudworth is perplexingly 
involved, and his great work is unmethodical in its arrangement and discus- 
sioji. Nevertheless, the patient and persevering student will be amply re- 
warded for his pains. A work of more profound research into the doctrine 
of antiquity concerning God, and into the real import of the religious systems 
of the ancient world, is, probably, not extant in any language. 



I40 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



believed in the existence of one supreme, uncreated, eternal 
God, " The Maker of all things^' — " the Father of gods and men^^ 
— " the sole Monarch and Ruler of the worlds 

2. The Greek Polytheists taught a plurality of " generated 
deities," who owe their existence to the power and will of the 
Supreme God, who a7'e by Him invested with delegated powers, 
and who, as the agents of his imiversal providence, preside over 
different departments of the created universe. 

The evidence presented by Cudworth in support of his theses 
is so varied and so voluminous, that it defies all attempts at 
condensation. His volumes exhibit an extent of reading, of 
patient research, and of varied learning, which is truly amazing. 
The discussion of these propositions involves, in fact, nothing 
less than a complete and exhaustive survey of the entire field 
of ancient literature, a careful study of the Greek and Latin 
poets, of the Oriental, Greek, and Alexandrian philosophers, and 
a review of the statements and criticisms of Rabbinical and 
Patristic writers in regard to the religions of the pagan world. 
An adequate conception of the varied and weighty evidence 
which is collected by our author from these fields, in support 
of his views, could only be conveyed by transcribing to our 
pages the larger portion of his memorable /^//r//^ chapter. But 
inasmuch as Grecian polytheism is, in fact, the culmination of 
all the mythological systems of the ancient world, the fully-de- 
veloped flower and ripened fruit of the cosmical and theologi- 
cal conceptions of the childhood-condition of humanity, we pro- 
pose to epitomize the results of his inquiry as to the theological. 
opinions of the Greeks, supplying additional confirmation of his 
views from other sources. 

And first, he proves most conclusively that Orpheus, Homer, 
and Hesiod,' who are usually designated " the theologians " 

* We do not concern ourselves with the chronological antecedence of 
these ancient Greek poets. It is of little consequence to us whether Homer 
preceded Orpheus, or Orpheus Homer. They were not the real creators of 
the mythology of ancient Greece. The myths were a spontaneous growth 
of the earliest human thought even before the separation of the Aryan family 
into its varied branches. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHT. 141 

of Greece, but who were in fact the depravers and corrupters of 

pagan theology, do not teach the existence of a multitude of 

unmade^ self-existent, and independent deities. Even they believed 

in the existence of one uncreated and eternal mind, one Supreme 

God, anterior and superior to all the gods of their mythology. 

They had some intuition, some apperception of the Divine, even 

before they had attached to it a sacred name. The gods of 

their mythology had all, save one, a temporal origin ; they were 

generated of Chaos and Night, by an active principle called 

Love. " One might suspect," says Aristotle, " that Hesiod, and 

if there be any other who made love or desire a principle of 

things, aimed at these very things (viz., the designation of the 

efficient cause of the world); for Parmenides, describing the 

generation of the universe, says : 

" * First of all the gods planned he love f 

and further, Hesiod : 

" ' First of all was Chaos, afterwards Earth, 
With her spacious bosom, 
And Love, who is pre-eminent among all the immortals ;' 

as intimating here that in entities there should exist some cause 
that will impart motion, and hold bodies in union together. 
But how, in regard to these, one ought to distribute them, as 
to the order of priority, can be decided afterwards."^ 

Now whether this "first principle," called "Z^z/^," "the 
cause of motion and of union " in the universe, was regarded as 
a personal Being, and whether, as the ancient scholiast taught, 
Hesiod's love was "the heavenly Love, which is also God, that 
other love that was born of Venus being junior," is just now of 
no moment to the argument. The more important inference is, 

The study of Comparative Mythology, as well as of Comparative Lan- 
guage, assures us that the myths had an origin much earlier than the times 
of Homer and Orpheus. They floated down from ages on the tide of oral 
tradition before they were systematized, embellished, and committed to writing 
by Homer, and Orpheus, and Hesiod. And between the systems of these 
three poets a perceptible difference is recognizable, which reflects the changes 
that verbal recitations necessarily and imperceptibly undergo. 

^ " Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. iv. 



142 CHRISTIANITY AND 

that amongst the gods of Pagan theology but one is self-existent, 
or else none are. Because the Hesiodian gods, which are, in fact, 
all the gods of the Greek mythology, "were either all of them 
derived from chaos, love itself likewise being generated out of 
it ; or else love was supposed to be distinct from chaos, and 
the active principle of the universe, from whence, together with 
chaos, all the theogony and cosmogony was derived."^ Hence 
it is evident the poets did not teach the existence of a multi- 
plicity of unmade, self-existent, independent deities. 

The careful reader of Cudworth will also learn another truth 
of the utmost importance in this connection, viz., that the the- 
ogony of the Greek poets was, in fact, a cosmogony, the generation 
of the gods being, in reality, the generation of the heavens, the 
sun, the moon, the stars, and all the various powers and phe- 
nomena of nature. This is dimly shadowed forth in the very 
names which are given to some of these divinities. Thus He- 
lios is the sun, Selena is the moon, Zeus the sky — the deep 
blue heaven, Eos the dawn, and Erse the dew. It is rendered 
still more evident by the opening lines of Hesiod's " Theogonia," 
in which he invokes the muses : 

" Hail ye daughters of Jupiter ! Grant a delightsome song. 
Tell of the race of immortal gods, always existing, 
Who are the offspring of the earth, of the starry sky. 
And of the gloomy night, whom also the ocean nourisheth. 
Tell how the gods and the earth at first were made, 
And the rivers, and -the mighty deep, boiling with waves. 
And the glowing stars, and the broad heavens above, 
And the gods, givers of good, born of these." 

Where we 'see plainly that the generation of the gods is the 
generation of the earth, the heaven, the stars, the seas, the riv- 
ers, and other things produced by them. "But immediately 
after invocation of the Muses the poet begins wdth Chaos, and 
Tartara, and Love, as the first principles, and then proceeds to 
the production of the earth and of night out of chaos ; of the 
ether and of day, from night ; of the starry heavens, mountains, 
and seas. All which generation of gods is really nothing but 
' " Cudworth," vol. i. p. 287. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 



143 



a poetic description of the cosmogonia; as through the sequel 
of the poem all seems to be physiology veiled under fiction 
and allegory. . . . Hesiod's gods are thus not only the ani- 
mated parts of the world, but also the other things of nature 
personified and deified, or abusively called gods and goddess- 
es."^ The same is true both of the Orphic and Homeric gods. 
" Their generation of the gods is the same with the generation 
or creation of the world, both of them having, in all probability, 
derived it from the Mosaic cabala, or tradition."^ 

But in spite of all this mythological obscuration, the belief 
in one Supreme God is here and there most clearly recogniza- 
ble. "That Zeus was originally to the Greeks the Supreme 
God, the true God — nay, at some time their only God — can be 
perceived in spite of the haze which mythology has raised 
around his name."^ True, they sometimes used the word 
"Zeus" in a physical sense to denote the deep expanse of heav- 
en, and sometimes in a historic sense, to designate a hero or 
deified man said to have been born in Crete. It is also true 
that the Homeric Zeus is full of contradictions. He is " all-see- 
ing," yet he is cheated ; he is " omnipotent," yet he is defied ; 
he is "eternal," yet he has a father; he is "just," yet he is 
guilty of crime. Now, as Mtiller very justly remarks, these con- 
tradictions may teach us a lesson. If all the conceptions of 
Zeus had sprung from one origin, these contradictions could 
not have existed. If Zeus had simply, and only meant the Su- 
preme God, he could not have been the son of Kronos (Time). 
If, on the other hand, Zeus had been a mere mythological per- 
sonage, as Eos, the dawn, and Helios, the sun, he- could never 
have been addressed as he is addressed in the famous prayer 
of Achilles (Iliad, bk. xxi.).* 

In Homer there is a perpetual blending of the natural and 
the supernatural, the human and divine. The Iliad is an in- 
congruous medley of theology, physics, and history. In its 
gorgeous scenic representations, nature, humanity, and deity are 

* Cudworth, vol. i. pp. 321, 332. ^ Id., ib., vol. i, p. 478. 

^ Max Miiller, " Science of Language," p. 457. * Id., ib., p. 458. 



144 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



mingled in inextricable confusion. The gods are sometimes 
supernat^iral and superhuman personages ; sometimes the 
things and powers of nature personified ; and sometimes they 
are deified men. And yet there are passages, even in Homer, 
which clearly distinguish Zeus from all the other divinities, 
and mark him out as the Supreme. He is "the highest, first 
of Gods" (bk. xix. 284); "most great, most glorious Jove" 
(bk. ii. 474). He is "the universal Lord" (bk. xi. 229); "of 
mortals and immortals king supreme," (bk. xii. 263); "over 
all the immortal gods he reigns in unapproached pre-eminence 
of power" (bk. xv. 125). He is "the King of kings" (bk. viii. 
35), whose "will is sovereign" (bk, iv. 65), and his "power 
invincible" (bk. viii. 35). He is the "eternal Father" (bk. 
viii. 77). He "excels in wisdom gods and men; all human 
things from him proceed" (bk. xiii. 708-10); "the Lord of 
counsel" (bk. i. 208), "the all-seeing Jove" (bk. xiii. 824). In- 
deed the mere expression " Father of gods and men " (bk. i. 
639), so often applied to Zeus, and him alojie, is proof sufiicient 
that, in spite of all the legendary stories of gods and heroes, the 
idea of Zeus as the Supreme God, the maker of the world, the 
Father of gods and men, the monarch and ruler of the world, 
w^as not obliterated from the Greek mind.^ 

"When Homer introduces Eumaios, the swineherd, speak- 
ing of this life and the higher powers that rule it, he knows 

* " In the order of legendary chronology Zeus comes after Kronos and 
Uranos, but in the order of Grecian conception Zeus is the prominent per- 
son, and Kronos and Uranos are inferior and introductory precursors, setup 
in order to be overthrown, and to serve as mementos of the powers of their 
conqueror. To Homer and Hesiod, as well as to the Greeks universally, 
Zeus is the great, the predominant God, ' the Father of gods and men,' 
whose power none of the gods can hope to resist, or even deliberately think 
of questioning. All the other gods have their specific potency, and peculiar 
sphere of action and duty, with which Zeus does not usually interfere ; but 
it is he who maintains the lineaments of a providential government, as well 
over the phenomena of Olympus as over the earth." — Grote, " Hist, of 
Greece," vol. i. p. 3. 

" Zeus is not only lord of heaven but likewise the ruler of the lower world, 
and the master of the sea," — Welcher, " Griechische Gotterlehre," vol, i, p, 
164. The Zeus of the Greek poets is unquestionably the god of whom Paul 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 145 

only of just gods 'who hate cruel deeds, but honor justice and 
the righteous works of men' (Od. xiv. 83). His whole life is 
built up on a complete trust in the divine government of the 
world without any artificial helps, as the Erinys, the Nemesis, 
or Moira. *Eat,' says the swineherd, 'and enjoy what is here, 
for God^ will grant one thing, but another he will refuse, what- 
ever he will in his mind, for he can do all things' (Od. xiv. 
444 j X. 306). This surely is religion, and it is religion un- 
tainted *by mythology. Again, the prayer of the female slave, 
grinding corn in the house of Ulysses is religious in the truest 
sense — ' Father Zeus, thou who rulest over gods and men, sure- 
ly thou hast just thundered in the starry sky, and there is no 
cloud anywhere. Thou showest this as a sign to some one. 
Fulfill now, even to me, miserable wretch, the prayer which I 
now offer ' " (Od. xx. 141-150).'^ 

The Greek tragedians were the great religious instructors of 
the Athenian people. " Greek tragedy grew up in connection 
with religious worship, and constituted not only a popular but 
a sacred element in the festivals of the gods. ... In short, 

declared, " In him we live and move, and have our being, as certain of your 
own poets have also said — 

" ' For we are his offspring.' " 
Now whether this be a quotation from Aratus or Cleanthes, the language of 
the poets is, " We are the offspring of Zeus ;" consequently the Zeus of the 
poets and the God of Christianity are the same God. 

" The father of gods and men in Homer is, of course, the Universal Fa- 
ther of the Scriptures."— Tyler, '* Theology of Greek Poets," p. 171. 

^ No sound reason can be assigned for translating deog by " a god " as 
some have proposed, rather than " God.'' But even if it were translated 
" a god," this god must certainly be understood as Zeus. Plato tells us 
that Zeus is the most appropriate name for God. " For in reality the name 
Zeus is, as it were, a sentence ; and persons dividing it in two parts, some 
of us make use of one part, and some of another ; for some call him Zrjv, and 
some A/f. But these parts, collected together into one, exhibit the nature of 
the God ; ... for there is no one who is more the cause of living, both to 
us and every thing else, than he who is the ruler and king of all. It follows, 
therefore, that this god is rightly named, through whom life is present in all 
living beings." — Cratylus, § 28. 

Gedf was usually employed, says Cudworth, to designate God by way of 
pre-eminence, deoi to designate inferior divinities. 

"^ Miiller, " Science of Language," p. 434. 

10 



146 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Strange as it may sound to modern ears, the Greek stage was, 
more nearly than any thing else, the Greek pulpit/ With a 
priesthood that offered sacrifice, but did not preach, with few 
books of any kind, the people were, in a great measure, de- 
pendent on oral instruction for knowledge ; and as they learn- 
ed their rights and duties as citizens from their orators, so 
they hung on the lips of the ' lofty, grave tragedians ' for in- 
struction touching their origin, duty, and destiny as mortal and 
immortal beings. . . . Greek tragedy is essentially didactic, 
ethical, mythological, and religious."^ 

Now it is unquestionable that, with the tragedians, Zeus is 
the Supreme God. vEschylus is pre-eminently the theological 
poet of Greece. The great problems which lie at the founda- 
tion of religious faith and practice are the main staple of near- 
ly all his tragedies. Homer, Hesiod, the sacred poets, had 
looked at these questions in their purely poetic aspects. The 
subsequent philosophers, Plato and Aristotle, developed them 
more fully by their didactic method, ^schylus stands on the 
dividing -line between them, no less poetic than the former, 
scarcely less philosophical than the latter, but more intensely 
practical, personal, and theological than either. The character 
of the Supreme Divinity, as represented in his tragedies, ap- 
• proaches more nearly to the Christian idea of God. " He is 
the Universal Father — Father of gods and men ; the Universal 
Cause {-KavaLTioQ, Agamem. 1485); the All-seer and All-doer 
{TvavroTrrrjQ, Trapepyerrig, ibid, and Sup. 139); the All-wise and 
All-controlling {-nrayicpaTijQ, Sup. 813); the Just and the Execu- 
tor of justice {^iKri(f)6pog, Agamem. 525); true and incapable of 
falsehood (Prom. 103 1) j 

ipev^TjyoQEiv yap ovk eiriaTaraj, croua 
TO dlov, aX7A Trdv eKog Te?.ei, — 

holy (dyj'oc, Sup. 650); merciful {TrpevjjLivrjg, ibid. 139); the God 
especially of the suppliant and the stranger (Supplices, pas- 
sim) ; the most high and perTect One (riXewy v\hi(TToy, Eumen. 

* Pulpitum, a stage. 

^ Tyler, " Theology of Greek Poets," pp. 205, 206. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 147 

28) j King of kings, of the happy, most happy, of the perfect, 
most perfect power, blessed Zeus (Sup. 522)."^ Such are some 
of the titles by which Zeus is most frequently addressed ; such 
the attributes commonly ascribed to him in ^schylus. 

Sophocles was the great master who carried Greek tragedy 
to its highest perfection. Only seven out of more than a hun- 
dred of his tragedies have come down to us. There are passa- 
ges cited by Justin Martyr, Clemens Alexandrinus, and others 
which are not found in those tragedies now extant. The most 
famous and extensively quoted passage is given by Cudworth.'^ 

Elf TOLQ a'Xr]t)eiaiaiv^ elg kariv deog, 

'Of ovQavov t' ETEV^e Kol yalav fxaKpav^ 

HdvTov Ts xapoTzbv oUfia, mvEfiuv j3lav, k. r. /l.^ 

This " one only God " is Zeus, who is the God of justice, and 
reigns supreme : 

" Still in yon starry heaven supreme, 
Jove, all-beholding, all-directing, dwells — 
To him commit thy vengeance." — " Electra," p. 174 sqq. 

This description of the unsleeping, undecaying power and do- 
minion of Zeus is worthy of some Hebrew prophet — 

" Spurning the power of age, enthroned in might, 
Thou dwell'st mid heaven's broad light; 
This was in ages past thy firm decree, 
Is now, and shall forever be : 
That none of mortal race on earth shall know 
A life of joy serene, a course unmarked by woe." 

"Antigone," pp. 606-614.* 

Whether we regard the poets as the principal theological 
teachers of the ancient Greeks, or as the compilers, systemati- 
zers, and artistic embellishers of the theological traditions and 
myths which were afloat in the primitive Hellenic families, we 
can not resist the conclusion that, for the masses of the people 
Zeus was the Supreme God, " the God of gods " as Plato calls 

^ Tyler, "Theology of Greek Poets," pp. 213, 214. 
^ " Intellectual Syst.," vol. i. p. 483. 

^ " There is, in truth, one only God, who made heaven and earth, the sea, 
air, and winds," etc. 

* " Theology of Greek Poets," p. 322. 



148 CHRISTIANITY AND 

him. Whilst all other deities in Greece are more or less local 
and tribal gods, Zeus was known in every village and to every 
clan. " He is at home on Ida/ on Olympus, at Dodona.' 
While Poseidon drew to himself the ^olian family, Apollo the 
Dorian, Athene the Ionian, there was one powerful God for all 
the sons of Hellen — Dorians, Cohans, lonians, Achaeans, viz., 
the Panhellenic Zeus."^ Zeus was the name invoked in their 
solemn nuncupations of vows — 

" O Zeus, father, O Zeus, king." 

In moments of deepest sorrow, of immediate urgency and need, 
of greatest stress and danger, they had recourse to Zeus. 

" Courage, courage, my child ! 
There is still in heaven the great Zeus ; 
He watches over all things, and he rules. 
Commit thy exceeding bitter griefs to him, 
And be not angry against thine enemies, 
Nor forget them.'"* 

He was supplicated, as the God who reigns on high, in the 
prayer of the Athenian — 

*' Rain, rain, O dear Zeus, on the land of the Athenians and on their 
fields." 

It has been urged that, as Zeus means the sky, therefore he 
is no more than the deep concave of heaven personified and 
deified, and that consequently Zeus is not the true, the only 
God. This argument is only equalled in feebleness by that of 
the materialist, who argues that " spiritus" means simply breath, 
therefore the breath is the soul. Even if the Greeks remember- 
ed that, originally, Zeus meant the sky, that would have no more 
perplexed their minds than the remembrance that "thymos" — 
mind — meant originally blast. " The fathers of Greek theology 
gave to that Supreme Intelligence, which they instinctively rec- 
ognized as above and ruling over the universe, the name of 
Zeus ; but in doing so, they knew well that by Zeus they meant 
more than the sky. The unfathomable depth, the everlasting 

^ " Iliad," bk. iii. 324. - Bk. xvi. 268. 

^ Muller, p. 452. . " Sophocles, " Electra," v. 188. 



GREEK PHILOSOPEY. 



149 



calm of the ethereal sky was to their minds an image of that In- 
finite Presence which overshadows all, and looks down on all. 
As the question perpetually recurred to their minds, * Where is 
he who abideth forever ?' they lifted up their eyes, and saw, as 
they thought, beyond sun, and moon, and stars, and all which 
changes, and will change, the clear blue sky, the boundless fir- 
mament of heaven. That never changed, that was always the 
same. The clouds and storms rolled far below it, and all the 
bustle of this noisy world j but there the sky was still, as bright 
and calm as ever. The Almighty Father must be there, un- 
changeable in the unchangeable heaven ; bright, and pure, and 
boundless like the heavens, and like the heavens, too, afar off."^ 
So they named him after the sky, Zeus, the God who lives in the 
clear heaven — the heavenly Father. 

The high and brilliant sky has, in many languages and many 
religions, been regarded as the dwelling-place of God. Indeed, 
to all of us in Christian times " God is above ;" he is " the God 
of heaven :" " his throne is in the heavens ;" " he reigns on 
high." Now, without doing any violence to thought, the name 
of the abode might be transferred to him who dwells in heaven. 
So that in our own language "heaven" may still be used as a 
synonym for " God." The prodigal son is still represented as 
saying, I have sinned against ^^heave?!^ And a Christian poet 
has taught us to sing — 

"High heaven, that heard my solemn vow, 
That vow renewed shall daily hear," etc. 

Whenever, therefore, we find the name of heaven thus used to 
designate also the Deity, we must bear in mind that those by 
whom it was originally employed were simply transferring that 
name from an object visible to the eye of sense to another object 
perceived by the eye of reason. They who at first called God 
" Heaven " had some conception within them they wished to 
name — the growing image of a God, and they fixed upon the 
vastest, grandest, purest object in nature, the deep blue con- 
cave of heaven, overshadowing all, and embracing all, as the 
^ Kingsley, " Good News from God," p. 237, Am. ed. 



I50 CUBISTIANITT AND 

symbol of the Deity. Those who at a later period called heaven 
'■^God'' had forgotten that they were predicating of heaven some- 
thing more which was vastly higher than the heaven.^ 

Notwithstanding, then, that the instinctive, native faith of 
humanity in the existence of one supreme God was overlaid 
and almost buried beneath the rank and luxuriant vegetation 
of Grecian mythology, we can still catch glimpses here and 
there of the solid trunk of native faith, around which this para- 
sitic growth of fancy is entwined. Above all the phantasmata 
of gods and goddesses who descended to the plains of Troy, 
and mingled in the din and strife of battle, we can recognize 
an overshadowing, all-embracing Power and Providence that 
dwells on high, which never descends into the battle-field, and 
is never seen by mortal eyes — the Universal King and Father, 
— the ''God of gods r 

Besides the direct evidence, which is furnished by the poets 
and mythologists, of the presence of this universal faith in " the 
heavenly Father^\ there is also a large amount of collateral tes- 
timony that this idea of one Supreme God was generally enter- 
tained by the Greek pagans, whether learned or unlearned.'^ 
Dio Chrysostomus says that " all the poets call the first and 
greatest God the Father, universally, of all rational kind, as 
also the King thereof. Agreeably with which doctrine of the 
poets do mankind erect altars to Jupiter-King (Atoc jSao-tXe'wc) 
and hesitate not to call him Father in their devotions " (Orat. 
xxxvi.). And Maximus Tyrius declares that both the learned 
and the unlearned throughout the pagan world universally 
agree in this; that there is one Supreme God, the Father of 
gods and men. ** If," says he, " there were a meeting called 
of all the several trades and professions, and all were re- 
quired to declare their sense concerning God, do you think 
that the painter would say one thing, the sculptor another, the 
poet another, and the philosopher another? No; nor the 
Scythian neither, nor the Greek, nor the hyperborean. In re- 

' See " Science of Language," p. 457. 
' Cudvvorth, vol. i. pp. 593, 594. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 151 

gard to other things, we find men speaking discordantly one to 
another, all men, as it were, differing from all men Never- 
theless, on this subject, you may find universally throughout 
the world one agreeing law and opinion ; ^^af there is one God, 
the King and Father of all, and many gods, the sons of God, co- 
reigners together with God^^ (Diss. i. p. 450). y 

From the poets we now pass to the philosophers. The 
former we have regarded as reflecting the traditional beliefs of 
the unreasoning multitude. The philosophers unquestionably 
represent the reflective spirit, the speculative thought, of the 
educated classes of Greek society. Turning to the writings of 
the philosophers, we may therefore reasonably expect that, in- 
stead of the dim, undefined, and nebulous form in which the 
religious sentiment revealed itself amongst the unreflecting 
portions of the Greek populations, we shall find their theologi- 
cal ideas distinctly and articulately expressed, and that we shall 
consequently be able to determine their religious opinions with 
considerable accuracy. 

Now that Thales, Pythagoras, Xenophanes, Anaxagoras, 
Empedocles, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle were all believers 
in the existence of one supreme, uncreated, eternal God, has 
been, we think, clearly shown by Cud worth. ^ 

In subsequent chapters on ^^the Philosophers of Athens, ^^ we 
shall enter more fully into the discussion of this question. 
Meantime we assume that, with few exceptions, the Greek phi- 
losophers were " genuine Theists." 

The point, however, with which we are. now concerned is, 
that whilst they believed in one supreme, uncreated, eternal God, 
they at the same time recognized the existence of a plurality of gen- 
erated deities who owe their existence to the power and will of the 
Supreme God, and who, as the agents and ministers of His univer- 
sal providence, preside over different departments of the created 
universe. They are at once Monotheists and Polytheists — be- 
lievers in " one God " and " many gods." Thi^ is a peculiari- 
' Vol. i. pp. 491-554. 



152 CHBISTIANITT AND 

ty, an anomaly which challenges our attention, and demands 
an explanation, if we would vindicate for these philosophers a 
rational Theism. 

Now that there can be but one infinite and absolutely perfect 
Being — one supreme, uncreated, eternal God — is self-evident ; 
therefore a multiplicity of such gods is a contradiction and an 
impossibility. The early philosophers knew this as well as the 
modern. The Deity, in order to be Deity, must be one and 
not many : must be perfect or nothing. If, therefore, we would 
do justice to these old Greeks, we must inquire what explana- 
tions they have offered in regard to " the many gods " of which 
they speak. We must ascertain whether they regarded these 
"gods " as created or uncreated beings, dependent or indepen- 
dent, temporal or eternal. We must inquire in what sense the 
term " god " is applied to these lesser divinities, — whether it is 
not applied in an accommodated and therefore allowable 
sense, as in the sacred Scriptures it is applied to kings and 
magistrates, and those who are appointed by God as the teach- 
ers and rulers of men. ^^They are called gods to whom the word 
of God came."^ And if it shall be found that all the gods of 
which they speak, save one, are " generated deities " — depend- 
ent beings — creatures and subjects of the one eternal King 
and Father, and that the name of "god" is applied to them in 
an accommodated sense, then we have vindicated for the old 
Greek philosophers a consistent and rational Theism. In what 
relation, then, do the philosophers place " the gods " to the one 
Supreme Being ? 

Thales, one of the most ancient of the Greek philosophers, 
taught the existence of a plurality of gods, as is evident from 
that saying of his, preserved by Diogenes Laertius, " The world 
has life, and is full of gods.'"^ At the same time he asserts his 
belief in one supreme, uncreated Deity ; " God is the oldest of 
all things, because he is unmade, or ungenerated."^ All the 

' See John x. 35. 

" " Lives," bk. i. ; sec also Aristotle's " De Anima," bk. i. ch. viii. izavra 
dmv ■Klfjpt]. 3 " Lives," bk. i. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 153 

other gods must therefore have been " generated deities," since 
there is but one unmade God, one only that had " no begin- 
ning."' 

Xenophanes was also an assertor of many gods, and one God ; 
but his one God is unquestionably supreme. " There is one 
God, the greatest amongst gods and men ;" or, " God is one, the 
greatest amongst gods and men."^ 

Empedodes also believed in one Supreme God, who "is 
wholly and perfectly mind, inef^ble, holy, with rapid and swift- 
glancing thought pervading the whole world," and from whom 
all things else are derived,—" all things that are upon the earth, 
and in the air and water, may be truly called the works of God, 
who ruleth over the world, out of whom, according to Em- 
pedocles, proceed all things, plants, men, beasts, and gods^^ 
The minor deities are therefore made by God. It will not be 
denied that Socrates was a devout and earnest Theist. He 
taught that " there is a Being whose eye pierces throughout all 
nature, and whose ear is open to every sound j extending through 
all time, extended to all places ; and whose bounty and care can 
know no other bounds than those fixed by his own creation."* 
And yet he also recognized the existence of a plurality of gods, 
and in his last moments expressed his belief that " it is lawful 
and right to pray to the gods that his departure hence may be 
happy."^ We see, however, in his words addressed to Euthy- 
demus, a marked distinction between these subordinate deities 
and " Him who raised this whole universe, and still upholds 
the mighty frame, who perfected every part of it in beauty and 
in goodness, suffering none of these parts to decay through age, 
but renewing them daily with unfading vigor ; . , . . even he, 
the Supreme God, still holds himself invisible, and it is only 
in his works that we are capable of admiring him."^ 

It were needless to attempt the proof that Flato believed in 
one Supreme God, and oftly one. This one Being is, with him, 

^ " Lives," bk. i. 2 q^^^^ ^lex., " Stromat" bk. v. 

^ Aristotle, " De Mundo," ch. vi. ^ Xenophon's " Memorabilia," i. 4. 

^ " Phaedo," § 152. « " Memorabilia," iv. 3. 



154 CHRISTIANITY AXD 

" the first God ;" " the greatest of the gods ;" " the God over 
all ;" "the sole Principle of the universe." He is " the Immu- 
table ;" " the All-perfect /' " the eternal Being." He is "the 
Architect of the world ;" " the Maker of the universe ;" " the Fa- 
ther of gods and men ;" " the sovereign Mind which orders all 
things, and passes through all things ;" " the sole Monarch and 
Ruler of the world."' 

And yet remarkable as these expressions are, sounding, as 
they do, so like the language of inspiration,'^ there can be no 
doubt that Plato was also a sincere believer in a pluralit)^ of 
gods, of which, indeed, any one may assure himself by reading 
the tenth book of " the Laws." 

And, now that w^e have in Plato the culmination of Grecian 
speculative thought, we may learn from him the mature and 
final judgment of the ancients in regard to the gods of pagan 
mythology. We open the Timceus, and here we find his views 
most definitely expressed. After giving an account of the 
"generation" of the sun, and moon, and planets, wdiich are by 
him designated as " visible gods," he then proceeds " to speak 
concerning the other divinities :" "We must on this subject as- 
sent to those who in former times have spoken thereon ; wdio 
were, as they said, the offspring of the gods, and who doubtless 

were well acquainted with their own ancestors Let then 

the genealogy of the gods be, and be acknowledged to be, that 
which they deliver. Of Earth and Heaven the children w-ere 
Oceanus and Tethys ; and of these the children were Phorcys, 
and Kronos, and Rhea, and all that follow^ed these ; and from 
these were born Zeus and Hera, and those who are regarded as 
brothers and sisters of these, and others their offspring. 

" When, then, all the gods were brought into existence y both those 
which move around in manifest courses [the stars and planets], 
and those which appear when it pleases them [the mythological 
deities], the Creator of the Universe thus addressed them : 

' See chap. xi. 

^ Some writers have supposed that Plato must have had access through 
some medium to " the Oracles of God." See Butler, vol. ii. p. 41. 



GREEK PUILOSOPHT. 155 

* Gods, and sons of gods, of whom I am the father and the au- 
thor, produced by me, ye are indestructible because I will. . . . 
Now inasmuch as you have been generated, you are hence not im- 
mortal, nor wholly indissoluble ; yet you shall never be dissolved 
nor become subject to the fatality of death, because so I have 
willed. . . . Learn, therefore, my commands. Three races of 
mortals yet remain to be created. Unless these be created, the 
universe will be imperfect, for it will not contain within it every 
kind of animal. ... In order that these mortal creatures may 
be, and that this world may be really a cosmos, do you apply 
yourselves to the creation of animals, imitating the exercises of 
my power in creating you.' "^ 

Here, then, we see that Plato carefully distinguishes between 
the sole Eternal Author of the universe, on one hand, and the 
" souls," vital and intelligent, which he attaches to the heavenly 
orbs, and diffuses through all nature, on the other. These sub- 
ordinate powers or agents are ail created, ^'■generated deities," 
who owe their continued existence to the will of God ; and 
though intrusted with a sort of deputed creation, and a subse- 
quent direction and government of created things, they are still 
only the servants and the deputies of the Supreme Creator, and 
Director, and Ruler of all things. These subordinate agents 
and ministers employed in the creation and providential gov- 
ernment of the world ajJpear, in the estimation of Plato, to have 
been needed — 

I. To satisfy the demands of the popular faith, which presented 
its facts to be explained no less than those of external nature. 
Plato had evidently a great veneration for antiquity, a peculiar 
regard for "tradition venerable through ancient report," and 
" doctrines hoary with years."^ He aspired after supernatural 
light and guidance ; he longed for some intercourse with, some 
communication from, the Deity. And whilst he found many 
things in the ancient legends which revolted his moral sense, 
and which his reason rejected, yet the sentiment and the lesson 
which pervades the whole, of Grecian mythology, viz., that the 
' " Timaeus," ch. xv. * Ibid., ch. v. 



156 CHRISTIANITY AND 

gods are in ceaseless intercourse with the human race, and if 
men will do right the gods will protect and help them," was 
one which commended itself to his heart. 

2. These intermediate agents seem to have been demanded 
to satisfy the disposition and tendency which has revealed itself i7i 
all systems, of interposing some scale of ascent between the material 
creation and the infinite Creator. 

The mechanical theory of the universe has interposed its 
long series of secondary causes — the qualities, properties, laws, 
forces of nature ; the vital theory which attaches a separate 
" soul " to the various parts of nature as the cause and intelli- 
gent director of its movements. Of these " souls " or gods, 
there were different orders and degrees — deified men or heroes, 
aerial, terrestrial, and celestial divinities, ascending from na- 
ture up to God. And this tendency to supply some scale of 
ascent towards the Deity, or at least to people the vast territory 
which seems to swell between the world and God, finds some 
countenance in "the angels and archangels," "the thrones^ and 
dominions, and principalities, and powers " of the Christian 
scriptures.' 

3. These inferior ministers also seemed to Plato to increase 
the stately grandeur and imperial majesty of the Divine govern- 
ment. They swell the retinue of the Deity in his grand " cir- 
cuit through the highest arch of heaven."^ They wait to exe- 
cute the Divine commands. They are the agents of Divine 
providence, " the messengers of God " to men. 

4. And, finally, the host of inferior deities interposed be- 
tween the material sensible world and God seemed to Plato as 
needful in order to explain the apparent defects and disorders of 
sublunary affairs. Plato was jealous of the Divine honor. 
"All good must be ascribed to God, and nothing but good. 
We must find evil, disorder, suffering, in some other cause. "^ 
He therefore commits to the junior deities the task of creating 

* " The gods of the Platonic system answer, in office and conception, to 
the an.Gcels of Christian Theology."— Butler, vol. i. p. 225. 

■'' " Phxdrus," § 56, 7. 3 " Republic," bk. ii. p. 18. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 157 

animals, and of forming " the mortal part of man," because the 
mortal part is "possessed of certain dire and necessary pas- 
sions."^ 

Aristotle seems to have regarded the popular polytheism of 
Greece as a perverted refic of a deeper and purer " Theology " 
which he conceives to have been, in all probability, perfected 
in the distant past, and then comparatively lost. He says — 
" The tradition has come down from very ancient times, being 
left in a mythical garb to succeeding generations, that these 
(the heavenly bodies) are gods, and that the Divinity encom- 
passes the whole of nature. There have been made, however, 
tQ these certain fabulous additions for the purpose of winning 
the belief of the multitude, and thus securing their obedience 
to the laws, and their co-operation towards advancing the gen- 
eral welfare of the state. These additions have been to the 
effect that these gods were of the same form as men, and even 
that some of them were in appearance similar to certain others 
amongst the rest of the animal creation. The wise course, 
however, would be for the philosopher to disengage from these 
traditions the false element, and to embrace that which is true ; 
and the truth lies in that portion of this ancient doctrine which 
regards the first and deepest ground of all existence to be the 
Divine, and this he may regard as a divine utterance. In all 
probability, every art, and science, and philosophy has been 
over and over again discovered to the farthest extent possible, 
and then again lost ; and we may conceive these opinions to 
have been preserved to us as a sort of fragment of these lost 
philosophers. We see, then, to some extent the relation of the 
popular belief to these ancient opinions."^ This conception of 
a deep Divine ground of all existence (for the immateriality and 
unity of which he elsewhere earnestly contends)^ is thus regard- 
ed by Aristotle as underlying the popular polytheism of Greece. 

The views of the educated and philosophic mind of Greece 
in regard to the mythological deities may, in conclusion, be 
thus briefly stated — 

' " Timasus," xliv. "^ " Metaph.," xi. 8. ^ Bk. xi. ch. ii. § 4. 



158 CHRISTIANITY AND 

1. They are all created beings — "generated deities," ze//^^ «r^ 
dependent o?t, and subject to, the will of one supreme God. 

II. They are the agents employed by God i7i the creation of, at 
least some parts of the imiverse, aiid in the movemejit and direction 
of the entire cosmos ; and they are als*the ministers and mes- 
sengers of that universal providence which he exercises over the 
hinnan race. 

These subordinate deities are, i. the greater parts of the 
visible mundane system animated by intelligent souls, a-nd call- 
ed " sensible gods " — the sun, the moon, the stars, and even the 
earth itself, and known by the names Helios, Selena, Kronos, 
Hermes, etc. 

2. Some are invisible powers, having peculiar offices and 
functions, and presiding over special places, provinces, and de- 
partments of the universe ; — one ruling in the heavens (Zeus), 
another in the air (Juno), another in the sea (Neptune), another 
in the subterranean regions (Pluto) ; one god presiding over 
learning and wisdom (Minerva), another over poetry, music, 
and religion (Apollo), another over justice and political order 
(Themis), another over war (Mars), another over corn (Ceres), 
and another the vine (Bacchus). 

3. Others, again, are ethereal and aerial beings, who have 
the guardianship of individual persons and things, and are call- 
ed demons, genii, and lares ; superior indeed to men, but inferior 
to the gods above named. 

" Wherefore, since there were no other gods among the 
Pagans besides those above enumerated, unless their images, 
statues, and symbols should be accounted such (because they 
were also sometimes abusively called ' gods '), which could 
not be supposed by them to have been unmade or without be- 
ginning, they being the workmanship of their own hands, we 
conclude, universally, that all that multiplicity of Pagan gods 
which make so great a show and noise was really either noth- 
ing but several names and notions of one supreme Deity, ac- 
cording to his different manifestations, gifts, and effects upon 
the world personated, or else many inferior understanding be- 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 159 

ings, generated or created by one supreme : so that one un- 
made, self-existent Deity, and no more, was acknowledged by 
the more intelligent Pagans, and, consequently, the Pagan Pol- 
ytheism (or idolatry) consisted not in worshipping a multiplici- 
ty of unmade minds, deities, and creators, self-existent from 
eternity, and independent upon one Supreme, but in mingling 
and blending some way or other, unduly, creature-worship with 
the worship of the Creator."^ 

That the heathen regard the one Supreme Being as the first 
and chief object of worship is evident from the apologies which 
they offered for worshipping, besides Him, many inferior di- 
vinities. 

I. They claimed to worship them only as inferior beings, 
and that therefore they were not guilty of giving them that 
honor which belonged to the Supreme. They claimed to wor- 
ship the supreme God incomparably above all. 2. That this 
honor which is bestowed upon the inferior divinities does ulti- 
mately redound to the supreme God, and aggrandize his state 
and majesty, they being all his ministers and attendants. 3. 
That as demons are mediators between the celestial gods and 
men, so those celestial gods are also mediators between men 
and the supreme God, and, as it were, convenient steps by 
which we ought with reverence to approach him. 4. That 
demons or angels being appointed to preside over kingdoms, 
cities, and persons, and being ijiany ways benefactors to us, 
thanks ought to be returned to them by sacrifice. 5. Lastly, 
that it can not be thought that the Supreme Being will envy 
those inferior beings that worship or honor which is bestowed 
upon them ; nor suspect that any of these inferior deities will 
factiously go about to set up themselves against the Supreme 
God. 

The Pagans, furthermore, apologized for worshipping God 

in images, statues, and symbols, on the ground that these were 

only schetically worshipped by them, the honor passing from 

them to the prototype. And since we live in bodies, and can 

^ Cudworth, ** Intellectual System," vol. i. p. 311. 



l6o CHRISTIANITY AND 

scarcely conceive of any thing without having some image or 
phantasm, we may therefore be indulged in this infirmity of 
human nature (at least in the vulgar) to worship God under a 
corporeal image, as a means of preventing men from falling into 
Atheism. 

To the Christian conscience the above reasons assigned 
furnish no real justification of Polytheism and Idolatry; but 
they are certainly a tacit confession of their belief in the one 
Supreme God, and their conviction that, notwithstanding their 
idolatry. He only ought to be worshipped. The heathen poly- 
theists are therefore justly condemned in Scripture, and pro- 
nounced to be '■'■ inexcusahky They had the knowledge of the 
true God — " they knew God,''' and yet " they glorified him not 
as God." "They changed the glory of the incorruptible God 
into a likeness of corruptible man." And, finally, they ended 
in " worshipping and serving the creature more than the Cre- 
ator."' 

It can not, then, with justice be denied that the Athenians 
had some knowledge of the true God, and some just and wor- 
thy conceptions of his character. It is equally certain that a 
powerful and influential religious sentiment pervaded the Athe- 
nian mind. Their extreme " carefulness in religion " must be 
conceded by us, and, in some sense, commended by us, as it 
was by Paul in his address on Mars' Hill. At the same time 
it must also be admitted and deplored that the purer theology 
of primitive times was corrupted by offensive legends, and en- 
crusted by polluting myths, though not utterly defaced.'* The 
Homeric gods were for the most part idealized, human person- 
alities, with all the passions and weaknesses of humanity. 
They had their favorites and their enemies ; sometimes they 
fought in one camp, sometimes in another. They were suscep- 
tible of hatred, jealousy, sensual passion. It would be strange 
indeed if their worshippers were not like unto them. The 

' Romans i. 21, 25. 

"^ " There was always a double current of religious ideas in Greece \ one 
spiritualist, the other tainted with impure legends." — Pressense. 



GREEK FHILO SOPHY. l6l 

conduct of the Homeric heroes was, however, better than their 
creed. And there is this strange incongruity and inconsistency 
in the conduct of the Homeric gods, — they punish mortals for 
crimes of which they themselves are guilty, and reward virtues 
in men which they do not themselves always practise. " They 
punish with especial severity social and political crimes, such 
as perjury (Iliad, iii. 279), oppression of the poor (Od. xvii. 
475), and unjust judgment in courts of justice (Iliad, xvi. 386)." 
Jupiter is the god of justice, and of the domestic hearth ; he is 
the protector of the exile, the avenger of the poor, and the vig- 
ilant guardian of hospitality. " And with all the imperfections 
of society, government, and religion, the poem presents a re- 
markable picture of primitive simplicity, chastity, justice, and 
practical piety, under the threefold influence of moral feeling, 
mutual respect, and fear of the divine displeasure ; such, at 
least, are the motives to which Telemachus makes his appeal 
when he endeavors to rouse the assembled people of Ithaca to 
the performance of their duty (Od. ii. 64)."^ 

The influence of the religious dramas of ^schylus and 
Sophocles on the Athenian mind must not be overlooked. 
No writer of pagan antiquity made the voice of conscience 
speak with the same power and authority that yEschylus did. 
"Grime," he says, "neVer dies without posterity." "Blood 
that has been shed congeals on the ground, crying out for an 
avenger." The old poet made himself the echo of what he 
called " the lyreless hymn of the Furies," who, with him, repre- 
sented severe Justice striking the guilty when his hour comes, 
and giving warning beforehand by the terrors which haunt him. 
His dramas are characterized by deep religious feeling. Rev- 
erence for the gods, the recognition of an inflexible moral 
order, resignation to the decisions of Heaven, an abiding pre- 
sentiment of a future state of reward and punishment, are strik- 
ingly predominant. 

Whilst ^schylus reveals to us the sombre, terror-stricken 

* Tyler, "Theology of Greek Poets," pp. 167, 168; Pressense, "Religion 
before Christ," p. 77. 



1 62 CHRISTIANITY AND 

side of conscience, Sophocles shows us the divine and lumi- 
nous side. No one has ever spoken with nobler eloquence than 
he of moral obligation — of this immortal, inflexible law, in 
which dwells a God that never grows old — 

"Oh be the lot forever mine 
Unsullied to maintain, 
In act and word, with awe divine, 
What potent laws ordain. 

" Laws spring from purer realms above ; 
Their father is the Olympian Jove. 
Ne'er shall oblivion veil their front sublime, 
Th' indwelling god is great, nor fears the wastes of time."^ 

The religious inspiration that animates Sophocles breaks 
out with incomparable beauty in the last words of CEdipus, 
when the old banished king sees through the darkness of death 
a mysterious light dawn, which illumines his blind eyes, and 
which brings to him the assurance of a blessed immortality.^ 

Such a theology could not have been utterly powerless. The 
influence of truth, in every measure and degree, must be salur 
tary, and especially of truth in relation to God, to duty, and to 
immortality. The religion of the Athenians must have had 
some wholesome and conserving influence of the social and 

political life of Athens.^ Those who resign the government of 

• 

^ " CEdipus Tyran.," pp. 863-872. 

'^ Pressense, " Religion before Christ," pp. 85-87. 

^ The practice, so common with some theological WTiters, of drawing dark 
pictures of heathenism, in which not one luminous spot is visible, in order 
to exalt the revelations given to the Jews, is exceedingly unfortunate, and 
highly reprehensible. It is unfortunate, because the skeptical scholar knows 
that there were some elements of truth and excellence, and even of grandeur, 
in the religion and civilization of the republics of Greece and Rome ; and 
it is reprehensible, because it is a one-sided and unjust procedure, in so far 
as it withholds part of the truth. This species of argument is a two-edged 
sword which cuts both ways. The prevalence of murder, and slavery, and 
treachery, and polygamy, in Greece and Rome, is no more a proof that *' the 
religions of the pagan nations were destructive ^of morality " (Watson, vol. 
i- P- 59). than the polygamy of the Hebrews, the falsehoods and impositions 
of Mediaeval Christianity, the persecutions and martyrdoms of Catholic 
Christianity, the oppressions and wrongs of Christian England, and the slav- 
ery of Protestant America, are proofs that the Christian religion is " de- 
structive of morality." What a fearful picture of the history of Christian 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 163 

this lower world almost exclusively to Satan, may see, in the re- 
ligion of the Greeks, a simple creation of Satanic powers. But 
he who believes that the entire progress of humanity has been 
under the control and direction of a benignant Providence, 
must suppose that, in the purposes of God, even Ethnicism has 
fulfilled some end, or it would not have been permitted to live. 
God has " Jtever left himself without a witness " in any nation 
under heaven. And some preparatory office has been fulfilled 
by Heathenism which, at least, revealed the want^ and prepared 
the mind for, the advent of Christianity. 

The religion of the Athenians was unable to deliver them 
from the guilt of sin, redeem them from its power, and make 
them pure and holy. It gave the Athenian no victory over 
himself, and, practically, brought him no nearer to the living 
God. But it awakened and educated the conscience, it devel- 
oped more fully the sense of sin and guilt, and it made man 
conscious of his inability to save himself from sin and guilt ; 
and " the day that humanity awakens to the want of something 
more than mere embellishment and culture, that day it feels the 
need of being saved and restored from the consequences of 
sin " by a higher power. Esthetic taste had found its fullest 
gratification in Athens ; poetry, sculpture, architecture, had 
been carried to the highest perfection ; a noble civilization had 
been reached ; but " the need of something deeper and truer 
was written on the very stones." The highest consummation of 
Paganism was an altar to " the unknown God," the knowledge 
of whom it needed, as the source of purity and peace. 

The strength and the weakness of Grecian mythology con- 
nations might be drawn to-day, if all the lines of light, and goodness, and 
charity were left out, and the crimes, and wrongs, and cruelties of the Chris- 
tian nations were alone exhibited ! 

How much more convincing a proof of the truth of Christianity to find in 
the religions of the ancient world a latent sympathy with, and an uncon* 
scious preparation for, the religion of Christ. "The history of religions of 
human origin is the most striking evidence of the agreement of revealed re- 
ligion with the soul of man — for each of these forms of worship is the ex- 
pression of the wants of conscience, its eternal thirst for pardon and restora- 
tion — rather let us say, its thirst for God." — Pressense, p. 6. 



l64 CHRISTIANITY AND 

sisted in the contradictory character of its divinities. There is 
a strange blending of the natural and the supernatural, the hu- 
man and the divine. Zeus, the eternal Father, — the immortal 
King, whose will is sovereign, and whose power is invincible, — 
the All-seeing Jove, has some of the weaknesses and passions 
of humanity. God and man are thus, in some mysterious way, 
united. And here that deepest longing of the human heart is 
met — the unconquerable desire to bring God nearer to the hu- 
man apprehension, and closer to the human heart. Hen/:e the 
hold which Polytheism had upon the Grecian mind. But in this 
human aspect was also found its w^eakness, for when philo- 
sophic thought is brought into contact with, and permitted crit- 
ically to test mythology, it dethrones the false gods. The age 
of spontaneous religious sentiment must necessarily be suc- 
ceeded by the age of reflective thought. Popular theological 
faiths must be placed in the hot crucible of dialectic analysis, 
that the false and the frivolous may be separated from the pure 
and the true. The reason of man demands to be satisfied, as 
well as the heart. Faith in God must have a logical basis, it 
must be grounded on demonstration and proof. Or, at any 
rate, the question must be answered, whether God is cognizable 
by human reason? If this can be achieved, then a deeper 
foundation is laid in the mind of humanity, upon which Chris- 
tianity can rear its higher and nobler truths. 



GREEK FHILO SOPHY. 165 



CHAPTER V. 

THE UNKNOWN GOD. 

" As I passed by, and beheld your sacred objects, I found an altar with 
this inscription, To the Ujiknown God.'" — St, Paul. 

- " That which can be known of God is manifested in their hearts, God 
himself having shown it to them " [the heathen nations]. — St. PauLo 

HAVING now reached our first landing-place, from whence 
we may survey the fields that we have traversed, it may 
be well to set down in definite propositions the results we have 
attained. We may then carry them forward, as torches, to il- 
luminate the path of future and still profounder inquiries. 

The principles we have assumed as the only adequate and 
legitimate interpretation of the facts of religious histor}^, and 
which an extended study of the most fully-developed religious 
system of the ancient world confirms, may be thus announced : 

I. A religious nature and destination appertain to man, so 
that the purposes of his existence and the perfection of his 
being can only be secured in and through religion. 

II. The idea of God as the unconditioned Cause, the infi- 
nite Mind, the personal Lord and Lawgiver, and the conscious- 
ness of dependence upon and obligation to God, are the funda- 
mental principles of all religion. 

III. Inasmuch as man is a religious being, the instincts and 
emotions of his nature constraining him to worship, there must 
also be implanted in his rational nature some original d priori 
ideas or laws of thought which furnish the necessary cognition 
of the object of worship ; that is, some native, spontaneous 
cognition of God. 

A mere blind impulse would not be adequate to guide man 
to the true end and perfection of his being without rational 
ideas ; a tendency or appetency, without a revealed object, 



1 66 CHRISTIANITY AXD 

would be the mockery and misery of his nature — an "ignis 
fatuus " perpetually alluring and forever deceiving man. 

That man has a native, spontaneous apperception of a God, 
in the true import of that sacred name, has been denied by 
men of totally opposite schools and tendencies of thought — by 
the Idealist and the Materialist ; by the Theologian and the 
Atheist. Though differing essentially in their general princi- 
ples and method, they are agreed in asserting that God is ab- 
solutely " the unknown /" and that, so far as reason and logic 
are concerned, man can not attain to any knowledge of the first 
principles and causes of the universe, and, consequently, can 
not determine whether the first principle or principles be in- 
telligent or unintelligent, personal or impersonal, finite or in- 
finite, one or many, righteous or non-righteous, evil or good. 

The various opponents of the doctrine that God can be 
cognized by human reason may be classified as follows : 

I. Those who assert that all human knowledge is necessarily 
confined to the observation and classification of J>heno7nena in their 
orders of co-existence^ succession, and resemblance. Man has no 
faculty for cognizing substances, causes, forces, reasons, first 
principles — no power by which he can know God. This class 
may be again subdivided into — 

1. Those who limit all knowledge to the observation and 
classification of mental phenomena {e. g., Idealists like J. S. 
Mill). 

2. Those who limit all knowledge to the observation and 
classification of material phenomena {e. g., Materialists like 
Comte). 

II. Tlie second class comprises all who admit that philosophic 
knowledge is the knowledge of eff^ects as dependent on causes, and of 
qualities as ifiherent in substa?tces; but at the same time assert that 
^^ all knowledge is of the phenomenal.^^ Philosophy can never 
attain to a positive knowledge of the First Cause. Of exist- 
ence, absolutely and in itself, we know nothing. The infinite 



GREEK PJIILO SOPHY. 167 

can not by us be comprehended, conceived, or thought. Faith 
is the organ by which we apprehend what is beyond knowledge. 
We beheve in the existence of God, but we can not know God. 
This class, also, may be again subdivided into — 

1. Those who affirm that our idea of the Infinite First 
Cause is grounded on an intuitional or subjective faith, ne- 
cessitated by an "impotence of thought" — that is, by a 
mental inability to conceive an absolute limitation or an 
infinite illimitation, an absolute commencement or an infi- 
nite non-commencement. Both contradictory opposites are 
equally incomprehensible and inconceivable to us ; and yet, 
though unable to view either as possible, we are forced by a 
higher law — the " Law of Excluded Middle " — to admit that 
one, and only one, is necessary {e. g., Hamilton and Mansel). 

2. Those who assert that our idea of God rests solely on 
an historical or objective faith in testimony — the testimony 
of Scripture, which assures us that, in the course of history, 
God has manifested his existence in an objective manner to 
the senses, and given verbal communications of his character 
and will to men j human reason being utterly incapacitated 
by the fall, and the consequent depravity of man, to attain 
any knowledge of the unity, spirituality, and righteousness 
of God {e. g., Watson, and Dogmatic Theologians generally). 

It will thus be manifest that the great question, the central 
and vital question which demands a thorough and searching 
consideration, is the following, to wit : Is God cognizable by hu- 
man reason ? Can man attain to a positive cognition of God — 
can he k7tow God ; or is all our supposed knowledge " a learned 
ignorance,"^ an unreasoning faith ? We venture to answer this 
question in the affirmative. Human reason is now adequate 
to the cognition of God ; it is able, with the fullest confidence, 
to affirm the being of a God, and, in some degree, to determine 
his character. The parties and schools above referred to an- 
swer this question in the negative form. Whether Theologians 
^ Hamilton's " Philosophy," p. 512. 



1 68 CHRISTIANITY AND 

or Atheists, they are singularly agreed in denying to human 
reason all possibility of k?iowmg God. 

Before entering upon the discussion of the negative positions 
enumerated in the above classification, it may be important we 
should state our own position explicitly, and exhibit what we 
regard as the true doctrine of the genesis of the idea of God in 
the human intelligence. The real question at issue will then 
stand out in clear relief, and precision will be given to the en- 
tire discussion. 

(i.) We hold that the idea of God is a common phenomenon of 
the universal human intelligence. It is found in all minds where 
reason has had its normal and healthy development; and no 
race of men has ever been found utterly destitute of the idea 
of God. The proof of this position has already been furnished 
in chap, ii.,^ and needs not be re-stated here. We have simply 
to remark that the appeal which is made by Locke and others 
of the sensational school to the experiences of infants, idiots, 
the deaf and dumb, or, indeed, any cases wherein the proper 
conditions for the normal development of reason are wanting, 
are utterly irrelevant to the question. The acorn contains 
within itself the rudimental germ of the future oak, but its ma- 
ture and perfect development depends on the exterior condi- 
tions of moisture, light, and heat. By these exterior conditions 
it may be rendered luxuriant in its growth, or it may be stunted 
in its growth. It may barely exist under one class of condi- 
tions ; it may be distorted and perverted, or it may perish ut- 
terly under another. And so in the idiotic mind the ideas of 
reason may be wanting, or they may be imprisoned by impervi- 
ous walls of cerebral malformation. In the infant mind the de- 
velopment of reason is yet in an incipient stage. The idea of 
God is immanent to the infant thought, but the infant thought 
is not yet matured. The deaf and dumb are certainly not in 
that full and normal correlation to the world of sense which is a 
necessary condition of the development of reason. Language, 
the great vehiculum and instrument of thought, is wanting, and 

^ Pp. 89, 90. 



GREEK FHILOSOPHY. 169 

reason can not develop itself without words. "Words with- 
out thought are dead sounds, thoughts without words are noth- 
ing. The word is the thought incarnate."^ Under proper and 
normal conditions, the idea of God is the natural and necessary 
form in which human thought must be developed. And, with 
these explanations, we repeat our affirmation that the idea of 
God is a common phenomenon of the universal human intelli- 
gence. 

(ii.) We do not hold that the idea of God^ in its completeness^ is a 
simple^ direct, and immediate intuition of the reason alo7ie, indepejid- 
ent of all experience^ and all knowledge of the external wo7'ld. The 
idea of God is a complex idea, and not a simple idea. The af- 
firmation, "God exists," is a synthetic and primitive judgment 
spontaneously developed in the mind, and developed, too, inde- 
pendent of all reflective reasoning. It is a necessary deduction 
from the facts of the outer world of nature and the primary in- 
tuitions of the inner world of reason — a logical deduction from 
the self evident truths given in sense, consciousness, and reason. 
" We do not perceive God, but we conceive Him upon the faith 
of this admirable world exposed to view, and upon the other 
world, more admirable still, which we bear in ourselves- "^ 
Therefore we do not say that man is born with an " innate 
idea " of God, nor with the definite proposition, " there is a 
God," written upon his soul ; but we do say that the mind is 
pregnant with certain natural principles, and governed, in its 
development, by certain necessary laws of thought, which de- 
termine it, by a spontaneous logic, to affirm the being of a God ; 
and, furthermore, that this judgment may be called iiinate in 
the sense, that it is the primitive, universal, and necessary de- 
velopment of the human understanding which " is innate to it- 
self and equal to itself in all men."^ 

As the vital and rudimentary germ of the oak is contained 
in the acorn ; as it is quickened and excited to activity by the 
external conditions of moisture, light, and heat, and is fully de- 

' Miiller, " Science of Language," p. 384. 

"^ Cousin, " True, Beautiful, and Good," p. 102. ^ Leibnitz. 



lyo CHRISTIANITY AND 

veloped under the fixed and determinative laws of vegetable 
life — so the germs of the idea of God are present in the human 
mind as the intuitions of pure reason {Rational Psychology) ; 
these intuitions are excited to energy by our experiential and 
historical knowledge of the facts and laws of the universe {Phe- 
nomenology) ; and these facts and intuitions are developed into 
form by the necessary laws of the intellect {JVofnology, or Pri- 
mordial Logic). 

The logical demonstration of the being of God commences 
with the analysis of thought It asks, What are the ideas which 
exist in the human intelligence ? What are their actual charac- 
teristics, and what their primitive characteristics ? What is 
their origin, and what their validity ? Having, by this process, 
found that some of our ideas are subjective, and some objec- 
tive ; that some are derived from experience, and that some can 
not be derived from experience, but are inherent in the very con- 
stitution of the mind itself, as d priori ideas of reason j that 
these are characterized as self-evident, universal, and neces- 
sary ; and that, as laws of thought, they govern the mind in all 
its conceptions of the universe ; it has formulated these neces- 
sary judgments, and presented them as distinct and articulate 
propositions. These d priori^ necessary judgments constitute 
the major premise of the Theistic syllogism, and, in view of the 
facts of the universe, necessitate the affirmation of the existence 
of a God as the only valid explanation of the facts. 

The 7tatural or chrojtological order in which the idea of God 
is developed in the human intelligence, is the reverse process 
of the scientific or logical order, in which the demonstration 
of the being of God is presented by philosophy ; the latter is 
reflective and analytic^ the former is spontaneous and synthetic. 
The natural order commences with the knowledge of the facts 
of the universe, material and mental, as revealed by sensation 
and experience. In presence of these facts of the universe, 
the d priori ideas of power, cause, reason, and end are evoked 
into consciousness with greater or less distinctness; and the 
judgment, by a natural and spontaneous logic, free from all 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 171 

reflection, and consequently from all possibility of error, affirms 
a necessary relation between the facts of experience and the 
d p7'iori ideas of the reason. The result of this involuntary 
and almost unconscious process of thought is that natural cog- 
nition of a God found, with greater or less clearness and defi- 
niteness, in all rational minds. The d posteriori^ or empirical, 
knowledge of the phenomena of the universe, in their relations 
to time and space, constitute the minor premise of the Theistic 
syllogism. 

The Theistic argument is,' therefore, necessarily composed 
of both experiential and d priori elements. An d posteriori 
element exists as a condition of the logical demonstration. 
The rational d priori element is, however, the logical basis, the 
only valid foundation of the Theistic demonstration. The facts 
of the universe alone would never lead man to the recognition 
of a God, if the reason, in presence of these facts, did not 
enounce certain necessary and universal principles which are 
the logical antecedents, and adequate explanation of the facts. 
Of what use would it be to point to the events and changes of 
the material universe as proofs of the existence of a First Cause., 
unless we take account of the universal and necessary truth 
that " every change must have an efficient cause ;" that all 
phenomena are an indication oi power ; and that "there is an 
ultimate and sufficient reason why all things exist, and are as 
they are, and not otherwise." There would be no logical force 
in enumerating the facts of order and special adaptation which 
literally crowd the universe, as proofs of the existence of an 
Intellige^it Creator., if the mind did not affirm the necessary prin- 
ciple that " facts of order, having a commencement in time, 
suppose mind as their source and exponent." There is no 
logical conclusiveness in the assertion of Paley, " that experi- 
ence teaches us that a designer must be a person ;" because, as 
Hume justly remarks, our " experience " is narrowed down to 
a mere point, " and can not be a rule for a universe ;" but 
there is an infinitude of force in that dictum of reason, that 
" intelligence, self-consciousness, and self-determination neces- 



172 CnmSTIANITY AND 

sarily constitute personality." A multiplicity of different effects, 
of which experience does not always reveal the connection, 
would not conduct to a single cause and to o?te God, but rather 
to a plurality of causes and a plurality of gods, did not reason 
teach us that "all plurality implies an ultimate indivisible 
unity," and therefore there must be a First Cause of all causes, 
a First Principle of all principles, the Substance of all substances, 
the Bei7ig of all beings — a God " of whom, in whom, and to 
whom are all things " {i^avra iic rov deou, h rw 0£w, ek Tov deor). 

The conclusion, therefore, is, that, as the idea of God is a 
complex idea, so there are necessarily a number of simple a 
priori principles, and a variety of experiential facts conspiring 
to its development in the human intelligence. 

(iii.) The universe preseiits to the hufnan mind an aggregation 
a?id history of pheno77iena which dei7iands the idea of a God — a 
se/fexiste7tt, i7itenige7it, perso7tal, righteous First Cause — as its ade- 
quate expla7iatio7i. 

The attempt of Positivism to confine all human knowledge 
to the observation and classification of phenomena, and arrest 
and foreclose all inquiry as to causes, efficient, final, and ulti- 
mate, is simply futile and absurd. It were just as easy to arrest 
the course of the sun in mid-heaven as to prevent the human 
mind from seeking to pass beyond phenomena, and ascertain 
the ground, and reason, and cause of all phenomena. The his- 
tory of speculative thought clearly attests that, in all ages, the 
inquiry after the Ultimate Cause and Reason of all existence — 
the apx;>/) or First Principle of all things — has been the inevita- 
ble and necessary tendency of the human mind j to resist which, 
skepticism and positivism have been utterly impotent. The 
first philosophers, of the Ionian school, had just as strong a 
faith in the existence of a Supreme Reality — an Ultimate Cause 
— as Leibnitz and Cousin. But when, by reflective thought, 
they attempted to render an account to themselves of this in- 
stinctive faith, they imagined that its object must be in some 
way appreciable to sense, and they sought it in some physical 
element, or under some visible and tangible shrine. Still, how- 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 173 

ever imperfect and inadequate the method, and however unsat- 
isfactory the results, humanity has never lost its positive and 
ineradicable confidence that the problem of existence could be 
solved. The resistless tide of spontaneous and necessary 
thought has always borne the race onward towards the recog- 
nition of a great First Cause ; and though philosophy may have 
erred, again and again, in tracing the logical order of this inev- 
itable thought, and exhibiting the necessary nexus between the 
premises and conclusion, yet the human mind has never wa- 
vered in the confidence which it has reposed in the natural 
logic of thought, and man has never ceased to believe in a God. 

We readily grant that all our empirical knowledge is con- 
fined to phenomena in their orders of co-existence, succession, 
and resemblance. " To our objective perception and compar- 
ison nothing is given but qualities and changes; to our induc- 
tive generalization nothing but the shifting and grouping of 
these in time and space." Were it, however, our immediate 
concern to discuss the question, we could easily show that sen- 
sationalism has never succeeded in tracing the genetic origin 
of our ideas of space and time to observation and experience ; 
and, without the d priori idea oi space, as the place of bodies, 
and of time, as the condition of succession, we can not conceive 
of phenomena at all. If, therefore, we know any thing beyond 
phenomena and their mutual relations ; if we have any cog- 
nition of realities underlying phenomena, and of the relations 
of phenomena to their objective ground, it must be given by 
some faculty distinct from sense-perception, and in some proc- 
ess distinct from inductive generaHzation. The knowledge of 
real Being and real Power, of an ultimate Reason and a per- 
sonal Will, is derived from the apperception of pure reason, 
which afiirms the necessary existence of a Supreme Reality — 
an Uncreated Being beyond all phenomena, which is the ground 
and reason of the existence — the contemporaneousness and 
succession — the likeness and unlikeness, of all phenomena. 

The immediate presentation of phenomena to sensation is 
the occasion of the development in consciousness of these d, 



174 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



priori ideas of reason : the possession of these ideas, or the im- 
manence of these ideas, in the human intellect, constitutes the 
original power to know external phenomena. The ideas of 
space, time, power, law, reason, and end, are the logical antece- 
dents of the ideas of body, succession, event, consecution, order, 
and adaptation. The latter can not be conceived as distinct 
notions without the former. The former will not be revealed 
in thought without the presentation to sense, of resistance, 
movement, change, uniformity, etc. All actual knowledge must, 
therefore^ be impure ; that is, it must involve both a priori and 
d posteriori elements ; and between these elements there must 
be a necessary relation. 

This necessary relation between the ci priori and d, posteriori 
elements of knowledge is not a mere subjective law of thought. 
It is both a law of thought and a law of things. Between the 
d posteriori facts of the universe and the d priori ideas of the 
reason there is an absolute nexus, a universal and necessary 
correlation ; so that the cognition of the latter is possible only 
on the cognition of the former; and the objective existence of 
the realities, represented by the ideas of reason, is the condi- 
tion, si7ie qua noft, of the existence of the phenomena presented 
to sense. If, in one indivisible act of consciousness, we im- 
mediately perceive extended matter exterior to our percipient 
mind, then Extension exists objectively ; and if Extension exists 
objectively, then Space, its cotiditio si?ie qua non, also exists ob- 
jectively. And if a definite body reveals to us the Space in 
which it is contained, if a succession of pulsations or move- 
ments exhibit the uniform Time beneath, so do the changeful 
phenomena of the universe demand a living Power behind, 
and the existing order and regular evolution of the universe 
presuppose Thought — prevision, and predetermination, by an 
intelligent mind. 

If, then, the universe is a created effect, it must furnish some 
indications of the character of its cause. If, as Plato taught, 
the world is a " created image " of the eternal archetypes which 
dwell in the uncreated Mind, and if the subjective ideas which 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 175 

dwell in the human reason, as the offspring of God, are "cop- 
ies" of the ideas of the Infinite Reason — if the universe be 
"the autobiography of the Infinite Spirit which has also repeat- 
ed itself in miniature within our finite spirit," then may we deci- 
pher its symbols, and read its lessons straight off. Then every 
approach towards a scientific comprehension and generaliza- 
tion of the facts of the universe must carry us upward towards 
the higher realities of reason. The more we can understand 
of Nature — of her comprehensive laws, of her archetypal forms, 
of her far-reaching plan spread through the almost infinite ages, 
and stretching through illimitable space — the more do we com- 
prehend the divine Thought. The inductive generalization of 
science gradually ascends towards the universal ; the pure, essen- 
tial, (^/W<9r/ reason, with its universal and necessary ideas, de- 
scends from above to meet it. The general conceptions of sci- 
ence are thus a kind of idece icmbratiles — shadowy assimilations 
to those immutable ideas which dwell in essential reason, as 
possessed by the Supreme Intelligence, and which are partici- 
pated in by rational man as the offspring and image of God. 

Without making any pretension to profound scientific accu- 
racy, we offer the following tentative classification of the facts 
of the universe, material and mental, which may be regarded 
as hints and adumbrations of the ultimate ground, and reason, 
and cause, of the universe. We shall venture to classify these 
facts as indicative of some fundamental relation ; (i.) to Per- 
manent Being or Reahty; (ii.) to Reason and Thought; (iii.) to 
Moral Ideas and Ends. 

(i.) Facts of the universe which i7tdicate some fundamental re- 
lation to Permanent Being or Reality. 

1. Qualitative Phenomena (properties, attributes, qualities) 
— the predicates of a subject; which phenomena, being charac- 
terized by likeness and unlikeness, are capable of compari- 
son and classification, and thus of revealing something as to 
the nature of the subject. 

2. Dynamical Phenomena (pretension, movement, succes- 



176 CHRISTIANITY AND 

sion) — events transpiring in titne, having beginning, succes- 
sion, and end, which present themselves to us as the expres- 
sion oi power, and throw back their distinctive characteristics 
on their dyfiamic source. 

3. Quantitative Phenomena (totahty, multiplicity, relative 
unity) — a multiplicity of objects having relative and compo- 
site unity, which suggests some relation to an absolute and 
indivisible U7iity. 

4. Statical Phenomena (extension, magnitude, divisibility) 
— bodies co-existing in space which are limited, conditioned, 
relative, dependent, and indicate some relation to that which 
is self-existent, unconditioned, and absolute. 

(ii.) Facts of the universe which vidicate some fundameiital re- 
lation to Reason or Thought. 

1. Numerical and Geometrical Proportion. — Definite pro- 
portion of elements (Chemistry), symmetrical arrangement of 
parts (Crystallography), numerical and geometrical relation of 
the forms and movements of the heavenly bodies (Spherical 
Astronomy), all of which are capable of exact mathematical 
expression. 

2. Archetypal Forms. — The uniform succession of new ex- 
istences, and the progressive evolution of new orders and 
species, conformable to fixed and definite ideal archetypes, 
the indication of a comprehensive plan (Morphological Bot- 
any, Comparative Anatomy). 

3. Teleology of Organs. — The adaptation of organs to the 
fulfillment of special functions, indicating design (Compara- 
tive Physiology). 

4. Combinatiojt of Homotypes and Analogues. — Diversified 
homologous forms made to fulfill analogous functions, or 
special purposes fulfilled whilst maintaining a general plan, " 
indicating choice and alternativity. 

(iii.) Facts of the imiverse which indicate some fundai7iental 
relation to Moral Ideas and Ends. 



GREEK PHILOSOrHT. 177 

1. Ethical Distinctions. — The universal tendency to dis- 
criminate between voluntary acts as right or wrong, indicating 
some relation to an immutable inoral staridard of right. 

2. Sense of Obligation. — The universal consciousness of 
dependence and obligation, indicating some relation to a 
Supreme Power, an Absolute Authority. 

3. Feeling of Responsibility. — The universal consciousness 
of liability to be required to give account for, and endure the 
consequences of our action, indicating some relation to a 
Supreme Judge. 

4. Retributive Issues. — The pleasure and pain resulting 
from moral action in this life, and the universal anticipation 
of pleasure or pain in the future, as the consequence of pres- 
ent conduct, indicate an absolute Justice ruling the world 
and man. 

Now, if the universe be a created effect, it must, in some de- 
gree at least, reveal the character of its Author and cause. We 
are entitled to regard it as a created symbol and image of the 
Deity; it must bear the impress oi his power ; it must reveal 
his infinite /r^j-^7zr^ ; it must express his thoughts ; it must em- 
body and realize his ideals, so far, at least, as material symbols 
will permit. Just as we see the power and thought of man re- 
vealed in his works, his energy and skill, his ideal and his taste 
expressed in his mechanical, artistic, and literary creations, so 
we may see the mind and character of God displayed in his 
works. The skill and contrivance of Watts, and Fulton, and 
Stephenson were exhibited in their mechanical productions. 
The pure, the intense, the visionary impersonation of the soul 
which the artist had conjured in his own imagination was wrought 
out in Psyche. The colossal grandeur of Michael Angelo's 
ideals, the ethereal and saintly elegance of Raphael's were real- 
ized upon the canvas. So he who is familiar v;ith the ideal of 
the sculptor or the painter can identify his creations even when 
the author's name is not affixed. And so the " eternal Power " 
of God is " clearly seen " in the mighty orbs which float in the 

12 



178 CHRISTIANITY AND 

illimitable space. The vastness of the universe shadows forth 
the infinity of God. The indivisible unity of space and the 
ideal unity of the universe reflect the unity of God. The mate- 
rial forms around us are symbols of divine ideas, and the suc- 
cessive history of the universe is an expression of the divine 
thought j whilst the ethical ideas and sentiments inherent in the 
human mind are a reflection of the moral character of God. 

The reader can not have failed to observe the form in which 
the Theistic argument is stated ; " if the finite universe is a 
created effect, it must reveal something as to the nature of its 
cause : if the existing order and arrangement of the universe 
had a commencement in time, it must have an ultimate and 
adequate cause." The question, therefore, presents itself in a 
definite form: "/r the tmivej-se finite or infi7iite ; had the oi^der 
of the universe a begifining, or is it eternal V 

It will be seen at a glance that this is the central and vital 
question in the Theistic argument. If the order and arrange- 
ment of the universe is eternal, then that order is an inherent 
law of nature, and, as eternal, does not imply a cause ah ext?^a ; 
if it is not eternal, then the ultimate cause of that order must 
be a power above and beyond nature. In the former case the 
minor premise of the Theistic syllogism is utterly invalidated ; 
in the latter case it is abundantly sustained. 

Some Theistic writers — as Descartes, Pascal, Leibnitz, and 
Saisset — have made the fatal admission that the universe is, in 
some sense, infinite and eternal. In making this admission they 
have unwittingly surrendered the citadel of strength, and de- 
prived the argument by which they would prove the being of a 
God of all its logical force. That argument is thus presented by 
Saisset : " The finite supposes the infinite. Extension supposes 
first space, then immensity : duration supposes first time, then 
eternity. A sudden and irresistible judgment refers this to the 
necessar}^, infinite, perfect being."^ But if " the world is in- 
finite and eternal,"^ may not nature, or the totality of all exist- 
ence {to TTctv), be the necessary, infinite, and perfect Being? An 

^ "Modern Pantheism," vol. ii. p. 205. ^ Ibid, p. 123. 



GREEK PMILOSOPHT. 179 

infinite and eternal universe has the reason of its existence in 
itself, and the existence of such a universe can never prove to 
us the existence of an infinite and eternal God. 

A closer examination of the statements and reasonings of Des- 
cartes, Pascal, and Leibnitz, as furnished by Saisset, will show 
that these distinguished mathematicans were misled by the false 
notion of " mal/ie7nafica/ infinitude" Their infinite universe, 
after all, is not an " absolute," but a " relative " infinite ; that is, 
the indefinite. " The universe must extend indefinitely in time ' 
and space, in the infinite greatness, and in the infinite littleness 
of its parts — in the infinite variety of its species, of its forms, 
and of its degrees of existence. The finite can not express the 
infinite but by being multiplied infinitely. The finite, so far as 
it is finite, is not in any reasonable relation, or in any intelligi- 
ble proportion to the infinite. But the finite, as multiplied infi- 
nitely,^ ages upon ages, spaces upon spaces, stars beyond stars, 
worlds beyond worlds, is a true expression of the Infinite Being. 
Does it follow, because the universe has no limits, — that it 
must therefore be eternal, immense, infinite as God himself? 
No ; that is but a vain scruple, which springs from the imagi- 
nation, and not from the reason. The imagination is always 
confounding what reason should ever distinguish, eternity and 
time, immensity and space, relative infinity and absolute infinity. 
The Creator alone is eternal, immense, absolutely infinite."^ 

The introduction of the idea of " the mathematical infinite " 
into metaphysical speculation, especially by Kant and Hamil- 
ton, with the design, it would seem, of transforming the idea of 
infinity into a sensuous conception, has generated innumerable 
paralogisms which disfigure the pages of their philosophical 
writings. This procedure is grounded in the common fallacy 
of supposing that infifiity and quantity are compatible attributes, 
and susceptible of mathematical synthesis. This insidious and 

^ " The infinite is distinct from the finite, and consequently from the mul- 
tiplication of the finite by itself; that is, from the indefinite. That which is 
not infinite, added as many times as you please to itself, will not become in- 
finite." — Cousin, " Hist, of Philos.," vol. ii. p. 231. 

^ Saisset, " Modern Pantheism," vol. ii. pp. 127, 128. 



l8o CHRISTIANITY AND 

plausible error is ably refuted by a writer in the "North Ameri- 
can Review."^ We can not do better than transfer his argu- 
ment to our pages in an abridged form. 

" Mathematics is conversant with quantities and quantitative 
relations. The conception of quantity, therefore, if rigorously 
analyzed, will indicate d prm-i the natural and impassable 
boundaries of the science ; while a subsequent examination of 
the quantities called infinite in the mathematical sense, and of 
the algebraic symbol of infinity, will be seen to verify the re- 
sults of this a priori analysis. 

" Quantity is that attribute of things in virtue of which they 
are susceptible of exact mensuration. The question how much, 
or how many {quantus), implies the answer, so much, or so many 
{tantus) j but the answer is possible only through reference to 
some standard of magnitude or multitude arbitrarily assumed. 
Every object, therefore, of which quantity, in the mathematical 
sense, is predicable, must be by its essential nature mensurable. 
Now mensurability implies the existence of actual, definite lim- 
its, since without them there could be no fixed relation between 
the given object and the standard of measurement, and, con- 
sequently, no possibility of exact mensuration. In fact, since 
quantification is the object of all mathematical operations, 
mathematics may be not inaptly defined as the science of the de- 
terminations of limits. It is evident, therefore, that the terms 
quantity Tm.^ finitude express the same attribute, namely, limita- 
tion — the former relatively, the latter absolutely ; for quantity is 
limitation considered with relation to some standard of meas- 
urement, and finitude is limitation considered simply in itself. 
The sphere of quantity, therefore, is absolutely identical with 
the sphere of the finite ; and the phrase infinite quantity, if 
strictly construed, is a contradiction in terms. 

" The result thus attained by considering abstract quantity 
is corroborated by considering concrete and discrete quantities. 
Such expressions as i?ifnite sphere, radius, parallelogram, line, 
and so forth, are self-contradictory. A sphere is limited by its 

^ " The Conditioned and the Unconditioned," No. CCV. art. iii. (1864). 



GREEK PltlLOSOPHT. l8l 

own periphery, and a radius by the centre and circumference 
of its circle. A parallelogram of infinite altitude is impossible, 
because the limit of its altitude is assigned in the side which 
must be parallel to its base in order to constitute it a parallelo- 
gram. In brief, all figuration is limitation. The contradiction 
in the term infinite line is not quite so obvious, but can readily 
be made apparent. Objectively, a line is only the termination 
of a surface, and a surface the termination of a solid ; hence a 
line can not exist apart from an extended quantity, nor an infi- 
nite line apart from an infinite quantity. But as this term has 
just been shown to be self-contradictory, an infinite line can 
not exist objectively at all. Again, every line is extension in 
one dimension \ hence a mathematical quantity, hence mensura- 
ble, hence finite ; you must, therefore, deny that a line is a 
quantity, or else affirm that it is finite. 

"The same conclusion is forced upon us, if from geometry 
we turn to arithmetic. The phrases infinite number, infinite se- 
ries, infinite process, and so forth, are all contradictory when 
literally construed. Number is a relation among separate uni- 
ties or integers, which, considered objectively as independent 
of our cognitive powers, must constitute an exact sum ; and 
this exactitude, or synthetic totality, is limitation. If consider- 
ed subjectively in the mode of its cognition, a number is infi- 
nite only in the sense that it is beyond the power of our im- 
agination or conception, which is an abuse of the term. In 
either case the totality is fixed ; that is, finite. So, too, of series 
2ind process. Since every series involves a succession of terms 
or numbers, and every process a succession of steps or stages, 
the notion of series and process plainly involves that of 7tiim- 
ber, and must be rigorously dissociated from the idea of infinity. 
At any one step, at any one term, the number attained is de- 
terminate, hence finite. The fact that, by the law of the series 
or of the process, we may continue the operation as long as we 
please, does not justify the application of the term infinite to 
the operation itself; if any thing is infinite, it is the will which 
continues the operation, which is absurd if said of human wills. 



1 82 CEEISTIANITY AND 

Consequently, the attribute of infinity is not predicable either 
of ' diminution without limit/ ' augmentation without limit/ or 
'endless approximation to a fixed limit/ for these mathemat- 
ical processes continue only as we continue them, consist of 
steps successively accomplished, and are limited by the very 
fact of this serial incompletion. 

" We can not forbear pointing out an important application 
of these results to the Critical Philosophy. Kant bases each 
of his famous four antinomies on the demand of pure reason 
for unconditioned totality in a regressive series of conditions. 
This, he says, must be realized either in an absolute first of the 
series, conditioning all the other members, but itself uncondi- 
tioned, or else in the absolute infinity of the series without a 
first ; but reason is utterly unable, on account of mutual con- 
tradiction, to decide in which of the two alternatives the uncon- 
ditioned is found. By the principles we have laid down, how- 
ever, the problem is solved. The absolute infinity of a series 
is a contradiction in adjecto. As every number, although im- 
measurably and inconceivably great, is impossible unless imity 
is given as its basis, so every series, being itself a number, is 
impossible unless a first term is given as a commencement. 
Through a first term alone is the unconditioned possible ; that 
is, if it does not exist in a first term, it can not exist at all ; of 
the two alternatives, therefore, one altogether disappears, and 
reason is freed from the dilemma of a compulsory yet impossi- 
ble decision. Even if it should be allowed that the series has 
no first term, but has originated ab ceterjio, it must always at 
each instant have a last term; the series, as a whole, can not 
be infinite, and hence can not, as Kant claims it can, realize in 
its wholeness unconditioned totality. Since countless terms 
forever remain unreached, the series is forever limited by them. 
Kant himself admits that it can never he coi7ipleted, and is only 
potentially infinite ; actually, therefore, by his own admission, it 
is finite. But a last term implies a first, as absolutely as one end 
of a string implies the other ; the only possibility of an uncon- 
ditioned lies in Kant's first alternative, and if, as he maintains. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 183 

Reason must demand it, she can not hesitate in her decisions. 
That number is a Uinitatmi is no new truth, and that every se- 
ries involves number is self-evident ; and it is surprising that so 
radical a criticism on Kant's system should never have sug- 
gested itself to his opponents. Even the so-called moments 
of time can not be regarded as constituting a real series, for a 
series can not be real except through its divisibility into mem- 
bers ; whereas time is indivisible, and its partition into mo- 
ments is a conventional fiction. Exterior limitability and inte- 
rior divisibility result equally from the possibility of discontinu- 
ity. Exterior illimitability and interior indivisibility are simple 
phases of the same attribute of necessary continuity contemplated 
under different aspects. From this principle flows another 
upon which it is impossible to lay too much stress, namely, 
illimitability and indivisibility, infinity and unity ^ reciprocally ne- 
cessitate each other. Hence the Quantitative Infinites must be 
also Units, and the division of space and time, implying absolute 
contradiction, is not even cogitable as an hypothesis.^ 

" The word infinite^ therefore, in mathematical usage, as ap- 
plied to process and to quantity^ has a two-fold signification. 
An infinite process is one which we can continue as long as we 
please, but which exists solely in our continuance of it.^ An 
infinite quantity is one which exceeds our powers of mensura- 
tion or of conception, but which, nevertheless, has bounds and 
limits in itself^ Hence the possibility of relation among infinite 
quantities, and of different orders of infinities. If the words 
infinite, infinity, irfinitesimal, should be banished from mathe- 
matical treatises and replaced by the words indefinite, indefinity, 
and indefinitesimal, mathematics would suffer no loss, while, by 
removing a perpetual source of confusion, metaphysics would 
get great gain." 

The above must be regarded, as a complete refutation of the 

^ By the application of these principles the writer in the " North American 
Review " completely dissolves the antinomies by which Hamilton seeks to 
sustain his " Philosophy of the Conditioned." See " North American Re- 
view," 1864, pp. 432-437. 

2 De Morgan, " Diif. and Integ. Calc." p. 9. ^ Id., ib., p. 25. 



1 84 CHRISTIANITY AND 

position taken by Hu7Jie, to wit, that the idea of nature eternally 
existing in a state of order, without a cause other than the 
eternally inherent laws of nature, is no more self-contradictory 
than the idea of an eternally-existing and infinite mind, who 
originated this order — a God existing without a cause. The 
eternal and infinite Mind is indivisible and illimitable ; nature, 
in its totality, as well as in its individual parts, has interior di- 
visibility, and exterior limitability. The infinity of God is not 
a quantitative^ but a qualitative infinity. The miscalled eternity 
and infinity of nature is an indefinite extension and protension 
in time and space, and, as qitantitative^ must necessarily be lim- 
ited and measurable, therefore yf/^V^. 

The universe of sense-perception and sensuous imagination 
is a phenomenal universe, a genesis, a perpetual becoming — an 
entrance into existence, and an exit thence j the Theist is, 
therefore, perfectly justified in regarding it as disqualified for 
self-existence, and in passing behind it for the Supreme Entity 
that needs no cause. Phenomena demand causation, entities 
dispense with it. No one asks for a cause of the space which 
contains the universe, or of the Eternity on the bosom of which 
it floats. Everywhere the line is necessarily drawn upon the 
same principle ; that entities may have self-existence, phenom- 
ena must have a cause. ^ 

IV. Psychological analysis clea7'ly attests that iii the phe?t07ne?ta 
of consciousness the?'e ai-e foimd elements or principles which, in 
their regular and nornial development, t7'anscend the li77iits of C07i- 
scious7iess, and attai7i to the k7iowledge of Absolute Bei7ig, Absolute 
Reaso7i, Absolute Good, i. e., God. 

The analysis of thought clearly reveals that the mind of man 
is in possession of ideas, notions, beliefs, principles (as e. g, the 
idea of space, duration, cause, substance, unity, infinity), which 
are not derived from sensation and experience, and which can 
not be drawn out of sensation and experience by any process 
of generalization. These ideas have this incontestable peculiar- 

* " Science, Nescience, and Faith," in Martineau's " Essays," p. 206. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 185 

ity, as distinguished from all the phenomena of sensation, that, 
whilst the latter are particular, contingent, and relative, the 
former are universal, necessary, and absolute. As an example, 
and a proof of the reality and validity of this distinction, take 
the ideas oibody and oi space, the former unquestionably derived 
from experience, the latter supplied by reason alone. " I ask 
you, can not you conceive this book to be destroyed ? Without 
doubt you can. And can not you conceive the whole world to 
be destroyed, and no matter whatever in existence ? You can« 
For you, constituted as you are, the supposition of the non-ex- 
istence of bodies implies no contradiction. And what do we 
call the idea of a thing which we can conceive of as non-exist- 
ing ? We call it a contingent and relative idea. But if you can 
conceive this book to be destroyed, all bodies destroyed, can 
you suppose space to be destroyed ? You can not. It is in the 
power of man's thought to conceive the non-existence of bod- 
ies ; it is not in the power of man's thought to conceive the 
non-existence of space. The idea of space is thus a necessary 
and absolute idea."^ 

Take, again, the ideas of event and cause. The idea of an 
event is a contingejtt idea ; it is the idea of something which 
might or might not have happened. There is no impossibility 
or contradiction in either supposition. The idea of cause is a 
necessary idea. An event being given, the idea of cause is nec- 
essarily implied. An uncaused event is an impossible concep- 
tion. The idea of cause is also a universal idea extending to 
all events, actual or conceivable, and affirmed by all minds. 
It is a rational fact, attested by universal consciousness, that 
we can not think of an event transpiring without a cause ; of a 
thing being the author of its own existence ; of something gen- 
erated by and out of nothing. Ex Jiihilo nihil is a universal 
law of thought and of things. This universal " law of caus- 
ality " is clearly distinguishable from a general truth reached by 
induction. For example, it is a very general truth that, during 
twenty-four hours, day is succeeded by night. But this is not 
^ Cousin's " Hist, of Philos.," vol. ii. p. 214. 



1 86 CHRISTIANITY AND 

a necessary truth, neither is it a universal truth. It does not 
extend to all known lands, as, for example, to Nova Zembla. 
It does not hold true of the other planets. Nor does it extend 
to all possible lands. We can easily conceive of lands plunged 
in eternal night, or rolling in eternal day. With another sys- 
tem of worlds, one can conceive other physics, but one can not 
conceive other metaphysics. It is impossible to imagine a 
world in which the law of causality does not reign. Here, 
then, we have one absolute principle (among others which may 
be enumerated), the existence and reality of which is revealed, 
not by sensation, but by reason — a principle which transcends 
the limits of experience, and which, in its regular and logical 
development, attains the knowledge of the Absolute Cause — 
the First Cause of all causes — God. 

Thus it is evident that the human mind is in possession of 
two distinct orders of primitive cognitions, — one, contingent, 
relative, and phenomenal ; the other universal, necessary, and 
absolute. These two distinct orders of cognition presuppose 
the existence in man of two distinct faculties or organs of 
knowledge — sensation^ external and internal, which perceives 
the contingent, relative, and phenomenal, and reason^ which ap- 
prehends the universal, necessar}^, and absolute. The knowl- 
edge which is derived from sensation and experience is called 
empi7'ical knowledge, or knowledge d posteriori, because subse- 
quent to, and consequent upon, the exercise of the faculties of 
observ-ation. The knowledge derived from reason is called 
transcendental knowledge, or knowledge d p?'iori, because it fur- 
nishes laws to, and governs the exercise of the faculties of ob- 
servation and thought, and is not the result of their exercise. 
The sensibility brings the mind into relation with \}ciQ. physicaL 
world, the reason puts mind in communication with the i7i- 
telligible world — the sphere of d p7'iori principles, of necessary 
and absolute truths, which depend upon neither the world nor 
the conscious self, and which reveal to man the existence of 
the soul, nature, and God. • Ever}^ distinct fact of consciousness 
is thus at once psychological and ontological^ and contains these 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 187 

three fundamental ideas, which we can not go beyond, or can- 
cel by any possible analysis — the soul, with its faculties ; matter, 
with its qualities ; God, with his perfections. 

We do not profess to be able to give a clear explication and 
complete enumeration of all the ideas of reason, and of the nec- 
essary and universal principles or axioms which are grounded 
on these ideas. This is still the grand desideratum of meta- 
physical science. Its achievement will give us a primordial 
logic, which shall be as exact in its procedure and as certain 
in its conclusions as the mathematical sciences. Meantime, 
it may be affirmed that philosophic analysis, in the person 
of Plato, Aristotle, Kant, and Cousin, has succeeded in dis- 
engaging, such d priori ideas, and formulating such principles 
and laws of thought, as lead infallibly to the cognition of the 
Absolute Being, the Absolute Reason, the Absolute Good, that is, 
God. 

It w^ould carry us too far beyond our present design were 
we to exhibit, in each instance, the process of ijiimediate ab- 
straction by which the contingent and relative element of knowl- 
edge is eliminated, and the necessary and absolute principle 
is disengaged. We shall simply state the method, and show 
its application by a single illustration. 

There are unquestionably /z£/^ 5orts of abstraction : i. '■^Com- 
parative abstraction, operating upon several real objects, and 
seizing their resemblances in order to form an abstract idea, 
which is collective and mediate ; collective, because different 
individuals concur in its formation ; mediate, because it re- 
quires several intermediate operations." This is the method 
of the physical sciences, which comprises comparison, abstrac- 
tion, and generalization. The result in this process is the at- 
tainment of a gene7'al truth. 2. ^^ Immediate abstraction, not 
comparative ; operating not upon several concretes, but upon a 
single one, eliminating and neglecting its individual and varia- 
ble part, and disengaging the absolute part, which it raises at 
once to its pure form." The parts to be eliminated in a con- 
crete cognition are, first, the quality of the object, and the cir- 



1 88 CHRISTIANITY AND 

cumstances under which the absolute unfolds itself; and sec- 
ondly, the quality of the subject, which perceives but does not 
constitute it. The phenomena of the me and the not-me being 
eliminated, the absolute remains. This is the process of ra- 
tional psychology, and the result obtained is a universal and 
necessary truth. 

" Let us take, as an example, the principle of cause. To be 
able to say that the event I see must have a cause, it is not 
indispensable to have seen several events succeed each other. 
The principle which compels me to pronounce this judgment 
is already complete in the first as in the last event ; it can not 
change in respect to its object, it can not change in itself; it 
neither increases nor decreases with the greater or less num- 
ber of applications. The only difference that it is subject to 
in regard to us is that we apply it, whether we remark it or not, 
whether we disengage it or not from its particular application. 
The question is not to eliminate the particularity of the phe- 
nomenon wherein it appears to us, whether it be the fall of a 
leaf or the murder of a man, in order immediately to conceive, 
in a general and abstract manner, the necessity of a cause for 
every event that begins to exist. Here it is not because I am 
the same, or have been affected in the same manner in several 
different cases, that I have come to this general and abstract 
conception. A leaf falls ; at the same moment I think, I be- 
lieve, I declare that this falling of the leaf must have a cause. 
A man has been killed ; at the same instant I believe, I pro- 
claim that this death must have a cause. Each one of these 
facts contains particular and variable circumstances, and some- 
thing universal and necessary, to wit, both of them can not but 
have a cause. Now I am perfectly able to disengage the uni- 
versal from the particular in regard to the first fact as well as 
in regard to the second fact, for the universal is in the first 
quite as well as in the second. In fact, if the principle of 
causality is not universal in the first fact, neither will it be in 
the second, nor in the third, nor in the thousandth ; for a thou- 
sandth is not nearer than the first to the infinite — to absolute 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 189 

universality. It is the same, and still more evidently, with 
necessity. Pay particular attention to this point ; if necessity is 
not in the first fact, it can not be in any j for necessity can not 
be formed little by little, and by successive increments. If, on 
the first murder I see, I do not exclaim that this murder had 
necessarily a cause, at the thousandth murder, although it shall 
be proved that all the others had causes, I shall have the right 
to think that this murder has, very probably, also a cause, but 
I shall never have the right to say that it necessarily Had a 
cause. But when universality and necessity are already in a 
single case, that case is sufficient to entitle me to deduce them 
from it,"^ and we may add, also, to affirm them of every other 
event that may transpire. 

The following schema will exhibit the generally accepted re- 
sults of this method of analysis applied to the phenomena of 
thought : 

(i. ) Universal and necessary p7'inciples^ or primitive judgments 
from whence is derived the cognitio7i of Absolute Being. 

1. The pidiiciple of Substance; thus enounced — "every 
quality supposes 2^ subject or real being." 

2. The principle of Causality ; " every thing that begins to 
be supposes 2. power adequate to its production, /. e., an effi- 
cient cause." 

3. The principle of Unity ; " all differentiation and plurality 
supposes an incomposite unity ; all diversity, an ultimate and 
indivisible identity." 

4. The prijiciple of the Unconditioned ; "the finite supposes 
the infinite, the dependent supposes the self-existent, the 
temporal supposes the eternal." 

(ii.) Uiiversal and necessary prificiples^ or primitive judgments, 
from which is derived the cognition of the Absolute Reason. 

I. The principle of Ideality ; thus enounced, "facts of order 
— definite proportion, symmetrical arrangement, numerical 
^ Cousin, " True, Beautiful, and Good," pp. 57, 58. 



190 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



relation, geometrical form — having a commencement in time, 
present themselves to us as the expression of Ideas, and refer 
us to Mind as their analogon, and exponent, and source." 

2. The principle of Cojisecution ; "the uniform succession 
and progressive evolution of new existences, according to fix- 
ed definite archetypes, suppose a unity of thought — a compre- 
hensive //^;2 embracing all existence." 

3. The principle of Intentionality or Final Cause; "every 
means supposes an e?id contemplated, and a choice and 
adaptation of means to secure the end'' 

4! TJie principle of Personality ; " intelligent purpose and 
voluntary choice imply a personal agent." 

( iii. ) Universal and necessary principles, or primitive judgments, 
from whence is derived the cognition of the Absolute Good. 

1. The principle of Moral Law ; thus enounced, "the ac- 
tion of a voluntary agent necessarily characterized as right or 
wrong, supposes an immutable and universal standard of 
right — an absolute moral Law." 

2. The priiiciple of Moral Obligation; "the feeling of obli- 
gation to obey a law of duty supposes a Lawgiver by whose 
authority we are obliged." 

3. The principle of Moral Desert ; "the feeling of personal 
accountability and of moral desert supposes 2i judge to whom 
we must give account, and who shall determine our award." 

4. The p7'inciple of Retribution ; " retributive issues in this 
life, and the existence in all minds of an impersonal justice 
which demands that, in the final issue, every being shall re- 
ceive his just deserts, suppose a being of absolute justice 
who shall render to every man according to his works." 

A more profound and exhaustive analysis may perhaps re- 
solve all these primitive judgments into one universal principle 
or law, which Leibnitz has designated " The principle or law 
of sujfficicnt reason,'' and which is thus enounced — there must 
be an ultimate and sufficient reason why any thing exists, and 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 



191 



why it is as it is, rather than otherwise ; that is, if any thing 
begins to be, something else must be supposed as the adequate 
ground, and reason, and caiise of its existence ;" or again, to 
state the law in view of our present discussion, " if the finite 
tmiverse, with its existing order and arrangemeiit., had a beginning., 
there must be an ultimate and sufficient reason why it exists., and 
why it is as it is, rather than otherwise!'^ In view of one partic- 
ular class of phenomena, or special order of facts, this " princi- 
ple of sufficient reason " may be varied in the form of its state- 
ment, and denominated " the principle of substance," " the 
principle of causality," "the principle of intentionality," etc.; 
and, it may be, these are but specific judgments under the one 
fundamental and generic law of thought which constitutes the 
major premise of every Theistic syllogism. 

These fundamental principles,, primitive judgments, axioms, 
or necessary and determinate forms of thought, exist poten- 
tially or germinally in all human minds; they are spontane- 
ously developed in presence of the phenomena of the universe, 
material and mental ; they govern the original movement of the 
mind, even when not appearing in consciousness in their pure 
and abstract form; and they compel us to 2&}cvi\. a permanent 
being or reality behind all phenomena — 2, power adequate to 
the production of change, back of all events ; a personal Mtnd, 
as the explanation of all the facts of order, and uniform suc- 
cession, and regular evolution ; and a personal Lawgiver and 
Righteous Judge as the ultimate ground and reason of all the 
phenomena of the moral world ; in short, to affirm an Uncon- 
ditioned Cause of all finite and secondary causes ; a First Princi- 
ple of all principles ; an Ultimate Reason of all reasons ; an im- 
mutable Uncreated Justice, the liviftg light of conscience ; a King 
immortal, eternal, invisible, the only wise God, the ruler of the 
world and man. 

Our position, then, is, that the idea of God is revealed to 
man in the natural and spontaneous development of his intelli- 
gence, and that the existence of a Supreme Reality correspond- 
ing to, and represented by this idea, is rationally and logically 



192 



CIIR IS TIA XI TY A XD 



demonstrable, and therefore justly entitled to take rank as part 
of our legitimate, valid, and positive knowledge. 

And now from this position, which we regard as impregna- 
ble, we shall be prepared more deliberately and intelligibly to 
contemplate the various assaults which are openly or covertly 
made upon the doctrine that God is cognizable by human reason. 



GREEK PBILOSOPHT. ^ 193 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE UNKNOWN GOD {continued). 

IS GOD COGNIZABLE BY REASON ? 

" The abnegation of reason is not the evidence of faith, but the confession 
oi despair." — Lightfoot. 

AT the outset of this inquiry we attempted a hasty group- 
ing of the various parties and schools which are arrayed 
against the doctrine that God is cognizable by human reason, 
and in general terms we sought to indicate the ground they 
occupy. 

Viewed from a philosophical stand-point, we found one party 
marshalled under the standard of Idealism \ another of Mate- 
rialism j and, again, another of Natural Realism. Regarded 
in their theological aspects, some are positive Atheists ; others, 
strange to say, are earnest Theists ; whilst others occupy a posi- 
tion of mere Indifferentism. Yet, notwithstanding the remark- 
able diversity, and even antagonism of their philosophical and 
theological opinions, they are all agreed in denying to reason 
any valid cognition of God. 

The survey of Natural Theism we have completed in the 
previous chapter will enable us still further to indicate the 
exact points against which their attacks are directed, and also 
to estimate the character and force of the weapons employed. 
With or without design, they are, each in their way, assailing 
one or other of the principles upon which we rest our demon- 
stration of the being of God. As we proceed, we shall find 
that Mill and the Constructive Idealists are really engaged in 
undermining '■^ th.Q pi^inciple of substattce f^ their doctrine is a 
virtual denial of all objective realities answering to our subjec- 
tive ideas of matter, mind, and God. The assaults of Comte 

13 



194 CHRISTIANITY AND 

and the Materialists of his school are mainly directed against 
^'- the principle of causality ^^ and "■ the principle of intentionality •'^ 
they would deny to man all knowledge of causes, efficient and 
final. The attacks of Hamilton and his school are directed 
against " the principle of the unconditioned;''^ his philosophy of 
the conditioned is a plausible attempt to deprive man of all 
power to think the Infinite and Perfect^ to conceive the Uncon- 
ditioned and Ultimate Cause ; whilst the Dogmatic Theologians 
are borrowing, and recklessly brandishing, the weapons of all 
these antagonists, and, in addition to all this, are endeavoring 
to show the insufficiency of " the principle of unity " and the 
weakness and invalidity of " the moral pri?tciples,^^ which are re- 
garded by us as relating man to a Moral Personality, and as 
indicating to him the existence of a righteous God, the ruler of 
the world. It is necessary, therefore, that we should concentrate 
our attention yet more specifically on these separate lines of at- 
tack, and attempt a minuter examination of the positions as- 
sumed by each, and of the arguments by which they are seek- 
ing, directly or indirectly, to invalidate the fundamental princi- 
ples of Natural Theism. 

(i.) We commence with the Idealistic School, of which John Stu- 
art Mill must be regarded as the ablest living representative. 

The doctrine of this school is that all our knowledge is nec- 
essarily confined to mental phenomena; that is, '-^ to feelings or 
states of consciousness," and " the succession and co-existence, 
the likeness and unlikeness between these feelings or states of 
consciousness."^ All our general notions, all our abstract 
ideas, are generated out of these feelings'^ by " inseparable asso- 
ciatio?^" which registers their inter-relations of recurrence, co- 
existence, and resemblance. The results of this inseparable 
association constitute at once the sum total and the absolute 
limit of all possible cognition. 

' J. S. Mill, " Logic," vol. i. p. 83 (English edition). 

^ In the language of Mill, every thing of which we are conscious is called 
" feeling." " Feeling, in the proper sense of the term, is a genus of which 
Sensation, Emotion, and Thought are the subordinate species."—" Logic," 
bk. i. ch. iii. § 3. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 195 

It is admitted by Mill that one apparent element in this to- 
tal result is the general conviction that our own existence is 
really distinct from the external world, and that the personal ego 
has an essential identity distinct from the fleeting phenomena 
of sensation. But this persuasion is treated by him as a mere 
illusion — a leap beyond the original datum for which we have 
no authority. Of a real substance or substratum called Mind, 
of a real substance or substratum called Matter, underlying the 
series of feelings — " the thread of consciousness " — we do know 
and can know nothing ; and in affirming the existence of such 
substrata we are making a supposition we can not possibly 
verify. The ultimate datum of speculative philosophy is not 
" I thifik,^^ but simply " Thoughts or feeli7igs are^ The belief 
in a permanent subject or substance, called matter, as the 
ground and plexus of physical phenomena, and of a permanent 
subject or substance, called mind, as the ground and plexus of 
mental phenomena, is not a primitive and original intuition of 
reason. It is simply through the action of the principle of as- 
sociation among the ultimate phenomena, called feelings, that 
this (erroneous) separation of the phenomena into two orders 
or aggregates — one called mind or self; the other matter, or 
not self — takes place ; and without this curdling or associating 
process no such notion or belief could have been generated. 
" The principle of substance," as an ultimate law of thought, is, 
therefore, to be regarded as a transcendental dream. 

But now that the notion of mijid or self, and of matter or 
not self do exist as common convictions of our race, what is 
philosophy to make of them ? After a great many qualifications 
and explanations, Mr. Mill has, in his " Logic," summed up his 
doctrine of Constructive Idealism in the following words : " As 
body is the mysterious something which excites the mind to feel, 
so mind is the mysterious something which feels and thinks."^ 
But what is this ''mysterious something?" Is it a reality, an 
entity, a subject ; or is it a shadow,. an illusion, a dream? In 
his " Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," where, 
^ " Logic," bk. i. ch. iii. § 8. 



196 CHRISTIANITY AND 

it may be presumed, we have his maturest opinions, Mr. Mill, 
in still more abstract and idealistic phraseology, attempts an 
answer. Here he defines matter as " a permanent possibility 
of se?isatio7i,^'^ ?ind mind as ^'' a permanent possibility of feelifig.^''^ 
And " the belief in these permanent possibilities," he assures 
us, " includes all that is essential or characteristic in the belief 
in substance."^ "If I am asked," says he, "whether I believe 
in matter, I ask whether the questioner accepts this definition 
of it. If he does, I believe in matter : and so do all Berkeleians. 
In any other sense than this, I do not. But I affirm with con- 
fidence that this conception of matter includes the whole 
meaning attached to it by the common world, apart from philo- 
sophical, and sometimes from theological theories. The reli- 
ance of mankind on the real existence of visible and tangible 
objects, means reliance on the reality and permanence of pos- 
sibilities of visual and tactual sensations, when no sensations 
are actually experienced."* " Sensations," however, let it be 
borne in mind, are but a subordinate species of the genus feel- 
ing.^ They are "states of consciousness" — phenomena of 
mind, not of matter ; and we are still within the impassable 
boundary of ideal phenomena ; we have yet no cognition of an 
external world. The sole cosmical conception, for us, is still a 
succession of sensations, or states of consciousness. This is 
the one phenomenon which we can not transcend in knowl- 
edge, do what we will j all else is hypothesis and illusion. The 
no7i-ego^ after all, then, may be but a mode in which the mind 
represents to itself the possible modifications of the ego. 

And now that matter, as a real existence, has disappeared 
under Mr. Mill's analysis, what shall be said of mind or self.? 
Is there any permanent subject or real entity underlying the 
phenomena of feeling ? In feeling, is there a personal self that 
feels, thinks, and wills ? It would seem not. Mind, as well as 
matter, resolves itself into a " series of feelings," varying and 
fugitive from moment to moment, in a sea of possibilities of 

* Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i. p. 243. 
' Ibid., vol. i. p. 253. ^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 246. 

* Ibid., vol. i. pp. 243, 244, * '* Logic," bk. i. ch. iii. § 3. 



GREEK PUILOSOPHY. ' 197 

feeling. " My mind," says Mill, " is but a series of feelings, 
or, as it has been called, a thread of consciousness, however 
supplemented by believed possibilities of consciousness, which 
are not, though they might be, realized."^ 

The ultimate fact of the phenomenal world, then, in the 
philosophy of Mill, is neither matter nor mind, but feelings or 
states of consciousness associated together by the relatiojis, 
amongst themselves, of recurrence, co-existence, and resem- 
blance. The existence of self, except as " a series of feel- 
ings ;" the existence of any thing other than self, except as a 
feigned unknown cause of sensation, is rigorously denied. Mr. 
Mill does not content himself with saying that we are ignorant 
of the nature of matter and mind, but he asserts we are igno- 
rant of the existence of matter and mind as real entities. 

The bearing of this doctrine of Idealism upon Theism and 
Theology will be instantly apparent to the reader. If I am nec- 
essarily ignorant of the existence of the external world, and of 
the personal ego, or real self, I must be equally ignorant of the 
existence of God. If one is a mere supposition, an illusion, so 
the other must be. Mr. Mill, however, is one of those courteous 
and affable writers who are always conscious, as it were, of the 
presence of their readers, and extremely careful not to shock 
their feelings or prejudices ; besides, he has too much con- 
scious self-respect to avow himself an atheist. As a specula- 
tive philosopher, he would rather regard Theism and Theology 
as " open questions," and he satisfies himself with saying, if you 
believe in the existence of God, or in Christianity, I do not in- 
terfere with you. " As a theory," he tells us that his doctrine 
" leaves the evidence of the existence of God exactly as it was 
before. Supposing me to believe that the Divine mind is sim- 
ply the series of the Divine thoughts and feelings prolonged 
through eternity, that would be, at any rate, believing God's ex- 
istence to be as real as my own [!]. And as for evidence, the 
argument of Paley's ' Natural Theology,' or, for that matter, of 
his ' Evidences of Christianity,' would stand exactly as it does. 
^ " Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i. p. 254. 



■198 CHRISTIANITY AND 

The design argument is drawn from the analogies of human ex- 
perience. From the relation which human works bear to hu- 
man thoughts and feelings, it infers a corresponding relation 
between works more or less similar, but superhuman, and su- 
perhuman thoughts and feelings. If it prove these, nobody 
but a metaphysician needs care whether or not it proves a 
mysterious substratum for them."^ The argument from design, 
it seems to us, however, would have no validity if there be no 
external world offering marks of design. If the external world 
is only a mode of feeling, a series of mental states, then our 
notion of the Divine Existence may be only " an association 
of feelings" — a mode of Self And if we have no positive 
knowledge of a real self as existing, and God's existence is no 
more " real than our own," then the Divine existence stands on 
a very dubious and uncertain foundation. It can have no very 
secure hold upon the human mind, and certainly has no claim 
to be regarded as a fundamental and necessary belief That 
it has a very precarious hold upon the mind of Mr. Mill, is evi- 
dent from the following passage in his article on "Later Specu- 
lations of A. Comtey"^ "We venture to think that a religion 
may exist without a belief in a God, and that a religion without 
a God may be, even to Christians, an instructive and profitable 
object of contemplation." 

And now let us close Mr. Mill's book, and, introverting our 
mental gaze, interrogate co?iscious?iess, the verdict of which, even 
Mr. Mill assures us, is admitted on all hands to be a decision 
without appeal.^ 

I. We have an ineradicable, and, as it would seem, an in- 
tuitive faith in the real existence of an external world distinct 
from our sensations, and also of a personal self, which we call 
" I," " myself," as distinct from " my sensations," and " my 
feelings." We find, also, that this is confessedly the common 
belief of mankind. There have been a few philosophers who 

' " Examination of Sir \Vm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i. p. 259. 

^ Westminster Review, July, 1835 (American edition), p. 3. 

^ " Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i. p. 161. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 199 

have affected to treat this belief as a " mere prejudice/' an 
" ilkision ;" but they have never been able, practically, so to 
regard and treat it. Their language, just as plainly as the lan- 
guage of the common people, betrays their instinctive faith in 
an outer world, and proves their utter inability to emancipate 
themselves from this "prejudice," if such it may please them to 
call it. In view of this acknowledged fact, we ask — Does the 
term ^^ permanent possibility of sensations " exhaust all that is 
contained in this conception of an external world .? This even- 
ing I remember that at noonday I beheld the sun, and experi- 
enced a sensation of warmth whilst exposing myself to his rays; 
and I expect that to-morrow, under the same conditions, I shall 
experience the same sensations. I now remember that last 
evening I extinguished my light and attempted to leave my 
study, but, coming in contact with the closed door, experienced 
a sense of resistance to my muscular effort, by a solid and ex- 
tended body exterior to myself ; and I expect that this evening, 
under the same circumstances, I shall experience the same 
sensations. Now, does a belief in " a permanent possibility of 
sensations " explain all these experiences ? does it account for 
that immediate knowledge of an external object which I had 
on looking at the sun, or that presentative knowledge of resist- 
ance and extension^ and of an extended, resisting substa?tce, I had 
when in contact with the door of my study ? Mr. Mill very 
confidently affirms that this belief includes all ; and this phrase 
expresses all the meaning attached to extended " matter " and 
resisting "substance" by the common world.^ We as confi- 
dently affirm that it does no such thing ; and as " the common 
world " must be supposed to understand the language of con- 
sciousness as well as the philosopher, we are perfectly willing 
to leave the decision of that question to the common conscious- 
ness of our race. If all men do not believe in a permanent 
reality — a substance which is external to themselves, a sub- 
stance which offers resistance to their muscular effort, and 
which produces in them the sensations of solidity, extension, 
^ " Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i. p. 243. 



200 ' CHRISTIANITY AND 

resistance, etc. — they believe nothing and know nothing at all 
about the matter. 

Still less does the phrase ^^ a permanent possibility of feelings" 
exhaust all our conception of a personal sel£ Recurring to the 
experiences of yesterday, I re7nember the feelings I experienced 
on beholding the sun, and also on pressing against the closed 
door, and I confidently expect the recurrence, under the same 
circumstances, of the same feelings. Does the belief in " a 
permanent possibility of feelings " explain the act of memory 
by which I recall the past event, and the act of prevision by 
which I anticipate the recurrence of the like experience in the 
future ? AVho or what is the " I " that remembers and the " I " 
that anticipates ? The " ego," the personal mind, is, according 
to Mill, a mere " series of feelings," or, more correctly, a flash 
of "/r^j-^;?/ feelings " on "a background of possibilities of pres- 
ent feelings."* If, then, there be no permanent substance or 
reality which is the subject of the present feeling, which re- 
ceives and retains the impress of the past feeling, and which 
anticipates the recurrence of like feelings in the future, how can 
the past be recalled, how distinguished from the present ? aiid 
how-, without a knowledge of the past as distinguished from the 
present, can the future be forecast ? Mr. Mill feels the press- 
ure of this difficulty, and frankly acknowledges it. He admits 
that, on the hypothesis that mind is simply " a series of feel- 
ings," the phenomena of memory and expectation are "inex- 
plicable " and "incomprehensible."^ He is, therefore, under 
the necessity of completing his definition of mind by adding 
that it is a series of feelings which " is aware of itself as a series f^ 
and, still further, of supplementing this definition by the conjec- 
ture that " something which has ceased to exists or is not yet in ex- 
istence^ can stilly i7i a inanner^ he present. ''^^ Now he who can un- 
derstand how a series of feelings can flow on in time, and from 
moment to moment drop out of the present into non-existence, 
and yet be present and conscious of itself as a series^ may be ac- 

* " Exam, of Hamilton," vol. i. p. 260. "^ Ibid., p. 262. 

" Ibid. 



GREEK rillLO SOPHY. 20l 

corded the honor of understanding Mr. Mill's definition of 
mind or self, and may be permitted to rank himself as a dis- 
tinguished disciple of the Idealist school ; for ourselves, we ac- 
knowledge we are destitute of the capacity to do the one, and 
of all ambition to be the other. And he who can conceive how 
the J>asf feeling of yesterday and \he possible feeling of to-mor- 
row can be in any manner present to-day ; or, in other words, 
how any thing which has ceased to exist, or which never had an 
existence, can 7iow exist, may be permitted- to believe that a 
thing can be and not be. at the same moment, that a part is 
greater than the whole, and that two and two make five ; but 
we are not ashamed to confess our inability to believe a contra- 
diction. To our understanding, "possibilities of feeling " are 
not actualities. They may or may not be realized, and until 
realized in consciousness, they have na real being. If there be 
no other background of mental phenomena save mere " possi- 
bilities of feeling," then present feelings are the only existences, 
the only reality, and a loss of immediate consciousness, as in 
narcosis and coma, is the loss of all personality, all self-hood, 
and of all real being. 

2, What, then, is the verdict of consciousness as to the exist- 
ence of a permanent substance, an abiding existence which is 
the subject of all the varying phenomena ? Of what are we 
really conscious when we say " I think," " I feel," " I will ?" Are 
we simply conscious of thought, feeling, and volition, or of a 
self, a person, which thinks, feels, and wills? The man who 
honestly and unreser\^edly accepts the testimony of conscious- 
ness in all its integrity must answer at once, we have an imme- 
diate consciottsness, not merely of the phenomena of mind, but of a 
persofial self as passively or actively related to the phenomena. "We 
are conscious not merely of the act of volition, but of a self, a 
power, producing the volition. We are conscious not merely 
of feeling, but of a being w^ho is the subject of the feeling. We 
are conscious not simply of thought, but of a real entity that 
thinks. " It is clearly a flat contradiction to maintain that I 
am not immediately conscious of myself, but only of my sensa- 



202 CHRISTIANITY AND 

tions or volitions. Who, then, is that / that is conscious, and 
how can I be conscious of such states as mi?ie f ^ 

The testimony of consciousness, then, is indubitable that we 
have a direct, immediate cognition of self— I know myself as a 
distinctly existing being. This permanent self, to which I refer 
the earlier and later stages of consciousness, the past as well as 
the present feeling, and which I know abides the same under 
all phenomenal changes, constitutes my personal identity. It 
is this abiding self which unites tlie past and the present, and, 
from the present stretches onward to the future. We know 
self immediately, as existing, as in active operation, and as hav- 
ing permanence — or, in other words, as a " substance. ^^ This 
one immediately presented substance, myself, may be regarded 
as furnishing a positive basis for that other notion of substance, 
which is representatively thought, as the subject of all sensible 
qualities. 

3. We may now inquire what is the testimony of conscious- 
ness as to the existence of the extra-mental world ? Are we 
conscious of perceiving external objects immediately and in 
themselves, or only mediately through some vicarious image or 
representative idea to which we fictitiously ascribe an objective 
reality? 

The answer of common sense is that we are immediately 
conscious, in perception, of an ego and a non-ego known together, 
and known in contrast to each other ; we are conscious of a 
perceiving subject, and of an external reality, as the object per- 
ceived." To state this doctrine of natural realism still more ex- 
plicitly we add, that we are conscious of the immediate per- 
ception of certain essential attributes of matter objectively ex- 
isting. Of these primary qualities, which are immediately per- 
ceived as real and objectively existing, we mention extension in 
space and resistance to muscular effort, with which is indissolu- 
bly associated the idea of externality. It is true that extension 
and resistance are only qualities, but it is equally true that they 

' Mansel, " Prolegomena Logica," p. 122, and note E, p. 281. 
■^ Hamilton, "Lectures," vol. 1. p. 288. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 203 

are qualities of something, and of something which is exter- 
nal to ourselves. Let any one attempt to conceive of extension 
without something which is extended, or of resistance apart from 
something which offers resistance, and he will be convinced that 
we can never know qualities without knowing substance, just as 
we can not know substance without knowing qualities. This, 
indeed, is admitted by Mr. Mill' And if this be admitted, it 
must certainly be absurd to speak of substance as something 
" unknown." Substance is known just as much as quality is 
known, no less and no more. 

AVe remark, in conclusion, that if the testimony of conscious- 
ness is not accepted in all its integrity, we are necessarily in- 
volved in the Nihihsm of Hume and Fichte ; the phenomena 
of mind and m.atter are, on analysis, resolved into an absolute 
nothingness — "a play of phantasms in a void."* 

(ii.) We turn, secondly, to the Materialistic School z.^ repre- 
sented by Aug. Comte. 

The doctrine of this school is that all knowledge is limited 
to material phenomena — that is, to appearances perceptible to 
sense. We do not know the essence of any object, nor the real 
mode of procedure of any event, but simply its relations to other 
events, as similar or dissimilar, co-existent or successive. These 
relations are constant; under the same conditions, they are 
always the same. The constant resemblances which link phe- 
nomena together, and the constant sequences which unite them, 
as antecedent and consequent, are termed laws. The laws of 
phenomena are ail we know respecting them. Their essential 
nature and their ultimate causes, efficient ox final, are unknown 
and inscrutable to us.^ 

It is not our intention to review the system of philosophy 
propounded by Aug. Comte ; we are now chiefly concerned 
with his denial of all causation. 

^ " Logic," bk. i. ch. iii. § 6. 
^ Masson, " Recent British Philos.," p. 62. 

^ See art. " Positive Philos. of A. Comte," Westminster Review, April, 1865, 
p. 162, Am. ed. 



204 CHRISTIANITY AND 

I. As to Efficient Causes. — Had Comte contented himself with 
the assertion that causes lie beyond the field of sensible ob- 
serv'ation, and that inductive science can not carry us beyond 
the relations of co-existence and succession among phenomena, 
he would have stated an important truth, but certainly not a 
new truth. It had already been announced by distinguished 
mental philosophers, as, for example, M. de Biran and Victor 
Cousin.^ The senses give us only the succession of one phe- 
nomenon to another. I hold a piece of wax to the fire and it 
melts. Here my senses inform me of two successive phenomena 
— the proximity of fire and the melting of wax. It is now agreed 
among all schools of philosophy that this is all the knowledge 
the senses can possibly supply. The observation of a great 
number of like cases assures us that this relation is uniform. 
The highest scientific generalization does not carry us one step 
beyond this fact. Induction, therefore, gives us no access to 
causes beyond phenomena. Still, this does not justify Comte 
in the assertion that causes are to us absolutely unknown. The 
question would still arise whether we have not some faculty of 
knowledge, distinct from sensation, which is adequate to fur- 
nish a valid cognition of cause. It does not by any means fol- 
low that, because the idea of causation is not given as a " phys- 
ical quaesitum " at the end of a process of scientific generaliza- 
tion, it should not be a " metaphysical datum " posited at the 
very beginning of scientific inquiry, as the indispensable con- 
dition of our being able to cognize phenomena at all, and as the 
law under which all thought, and all conception of the system 
of nature, is alone possible. 

Now we afiirm that the human mind has just as direct, im- 
mediate, and positive knowledge of cause as it has of effect. 
The idea of cause, the intuition oipowe7% is given in the imme- 
diate consciousness of mind as determining its own operations. 
Our first, and, in fact, our only presentation of power or cause, 
is that of self as williiig. In every act of volition I am fully 

^ " It is now universally admitted that we have no perception of the causal 
nexus in the material world." — Hamilton, *' Discussions," p. 522. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 205 

conscious that it is in my power to form a resolution or to re- 
frain from it, to determine on this course of action or that ; and 
this constitutes the immediate presentative knowledge of pow- 
er.^ The will is a power, a power in action, a productive power, 
and, consequently, a cause. This doctrine is stated with re- 
markable clearness and accuracy by Cousin : " If we seek the 
notion of cause in the action of one ball upon another, as was 
previously done by Hume, or in the action of the hand upon 
the ball, or the primary muscles upon the extremities, or even 
in the action of the will upon the muscles, as was done by M. 
Maine de Biran, we shall find it in none of these cases, not even 
in the last ; for it is possible there should be a paralysis of the 
muscles which deprives the will of power over them, makes 
it unproductive, incapable of being a cause, and, consequently, 
of suggesting the notion of one. But what no paralysis can 
prevent is the action of the will upon itself, the production of a 
resolution ; that is to say, the act of causation entirely mental, 
the primitive type of all causality, of which all external move- 
ments .... are only symbols more or less imperfect. The 
first cause for us, is, therefore, the will, of which the first effect 
is volition. This is at once the highest and the purest source 
of the notion of cause, which thus becomes identical, with that 
of personality. And it is the taking possession, so to speak, 
of the cause, as revealed in will and personality, which is the 
condition for us of the ulterior or simultaneous conception of 
external, impersonal causes."^ 

Thus much for the origin of the idea of cause. We have 
the same direct intuitive knowledge of cause that we have of 
effect ; but we have not yet rendered a full and adequate ac- 

^ " It is our immediate consciousness of effort, when we exert force to put mat- 
ter in motion, or to oppose and neutralize force, which gives us this internal 
conviction of power and catisation, so far as it refers to the material world, 
and compels us to believe that whenever we see material objects put in mo- 
tion from a state of rest, or deflected from their rectilinear paths and changed 
in their velocities if already in motion, it is in consequence of such an effort 
somehow exerted." — Herschel's " Outlines of Astronomy," p. 234 ; see Han- 
sel's " Prolegomena," p. 133. 

^ " Philosophical Fragments," Preface to first edition. 



2o6 CHRISTIANITY AND 

count of the principle of causality. We have simply attained 
the notion of our personal causality, and we can not arbitrarily 
substitute our personal causality for all the causes of the uni- 
verse, and erect our own experience as a law of the entire uni- 
verse. We have, however, already seen (Chap. V.) that the 
belief in exterior causation is necessary and universal. When a 
change takes place, when a new phenomenon presents itself to 
our senses, we can not avoid the conviction that it must have a 
cause. We can not even express in language the relations of 
phenomena in time and space, without speaking of causes. And 
there is not a rational being on the face of the globe — a child, 
a savage, or a philosopher — who does not instinctively and 
spontaneously affirm that every movement, every change, every 
new existence, must have a cause. Now what account can 
philosophy render of this universal belief? One answer, and 
only one, is possible. The reason of man (that power of which 
Comte takes no account) is in fixed and changeless relation to 
the principle of causation, just as sense is in fixed and cTiange- 
less relation to exterior phenomena, so that we can not know 
the external world, can not think or speak of phenomenal ex- 
istence, except as effects. In the expressive and forcible lan- 
guage of Jas. Martineau : " By an irresistible law of thought all 
phenomena present the^nselves to us as the expression of power ^ and 
refer us to a causal ground whence they issue. This dynamic 
source we neither see, nor hear, nor feel ; it is given in thought^ 
supplied by the spontaneous activity of mind as the correlative 
prefix to the phenomena observed.'" Unless, then, we are pre- 
pared to deny the validity of all our rational intuitions, we can 
not avoid accepting "this subjective postulate as a valid law 
for objective nature." If the intuitions of our reason are pro- 
nounced deceptive and mendacious, so also must the intuitions 
of the senses be pronounced illusory and false. Our whole in- 
tellectual constitution is built up on false and erroneous prin- 
ciples, and all knowledge of whatever kind must perish by "the 
contagion of uncertainty." 

^ " Essays," p. 47. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHT. 207 

Comte, however, is determined to treat the idea of causation 
as an illusion, whether under its psychological form, as will, 
or under its scientific form, as force. He feels that Theology 
is inevitable if we permit the inquiry into causes ;' and he is 
more anxious that theology should perish than that truth should 
prevail. The human will must, therefore, be robbed of all sem- 
blance of freedom, lest it should suggest the idea of a Supreme 
Will governing nature ; and human action, like all other phe- 
nomena, must be reduced to uniform and necessary law. All 
feelings, ideas, and principles guaranteed to us by conscious- 
ness are to be cast out of the account. Psychology, resting on 
self- observation, is pronounced a delusion. The immediate 
consciousness of freedom is a dream. Such a procedure, to 
say the least of it, is highly unphilosophical ; to say the truth 
about it, it is obviously dishonest. Every fact of human na- 
ture, just as much as every fact of physical nature, must be ac- 
cepted in all its integrity, or all must be alike rejected. The 
phenomena of mind can no more be disregarded than the phe- 
nomena of matter. Rational intuitions, necessary and univer- 
sal beliefs, can no more be ignored than the uniform facts of 
sense - perception, without rendering a system of knowledge 
necessarily incomplete, and a system of truth utterly impossi- 
ble. Every one truth is connected with every other truth in 
the universe. And yet Comte demands that a large class of 
facts, the most immediate and direct of all our cognitions, shall 
be rejected because they are not in harmony with the funda- 
mental assumption of the positive philosophy that all knowl- 
edge is confined to phenomena perceptible to sense. Now it were 
just as easy to cast the Alps into the Mediterranean as to ob- 
literate from the human intelligence the primary cognitions of 
immediate consciousness, or to relegate the human reason from 
the necessary laws of thought. Comte himself can not eman- 
cipate his own mind from a belief in the validity of the testi- 

^ " The inevitable tendency of our intelligence is towards a philosophy rad- 
ically theological, so often as we seek to penetrate, on whatever pretext, into 
the intimate nature of phenomena" (vol. iv. p. 664). 



2o8 CHRISTIANITY AND 

mony of consciousness. How can he know himself as distinct 
from nature, as a Uving person, as the same being he was ten 
years ago, or even yesterday, except by an appeal to conscious- 
ness ? Despite his earnestly-avowed opinions as to the inutility 
and fallaciousness of all psychological inquiries, he is com- 
pelled to admit that " the phenomena of life " are " knowji by 
imtnediate consciousness ^^ Now the knowledge of our personal 
freedom rests on precisely the same grounds as the knowledge 
of our personal existence. The same " immediate conscious- 
ness " which attests that I exist, attests also, with equal dis- 
tinctness and directness, that I am self-determined and free. 

In common with most atheistical writers, Comte is involved 
in the fatal contradiction of at one time assuming, and at an- 
other of denying, the freedom of the will, to serve the exigencies 
of his theory. To prove that the order of the universe can not 
be the product of a Supreme Intelligence, he assumes that the 
products of mind must be characterized by freedom and variety 
— the phenomena of mind must not be subject to uniform and 
necessary laws ; and inasmuch as the phenomena presented 
by external nature are subject to uniform and changeless laws, 
they can not be the product of mind. " Look at the whole 
frame of things," says he ; " how can it be the product of mind 
— of a supernatural Will ? Is it not subject to regular laws, 
and do we not actually obtain prevision of its phenomena ? If 
it were the product of mind, its order would be variable and 
free." Here, then, it is admitted that freedom is an essential 
characteristic of mind. And this admission is no doubt a thought- 
less, unconscious betrayal of the innate belief of all minds in 
the freedom of the will. But when Comte comes to deal with 
this freedom as an objective question of philosophy, when he 
directs his attention to the only will of which we have a direct 
and immediate knowledge, he denies freedom and variety, and 
asserts in the most arbitrary manner that the movements of the 
mind, like all the phenomena of nature, must be subject to 
uniform, changeless, and necessary laws. And if we have not 
' " Px)sitive Philos,,"vol. ii. p. 648. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 209 

yet been able to reduce the movements of mind, like the move- 
ments of the planets, to statistics, and have not already obtain- 
ed accurate prevision of its successions or sequences as we 
have of physical phenomena, it is simply the consequence of our 
inattention to, or ignorance of, all the facts. We answer, there 
are no facts so directly and intuitively known as the facts of 
consciousness ; and, therefore, an argument based upon our 
supposed ignorance of these facts is not likely to have much 
weight against our immediate consciousness of personal free- 
dom. There is not any thing we know so immediately, so cer- 
tainly, so positively, as this fact — we are free. 

The word " force," representing as it does a subtile mental 
conception, and not a phenomenon of sense, must also be ban- 
ished from the domains of Positive Science as an intruder, lest 
its presence should lend any countenance to the idea of causa- 
tion. " Forces in mechanics are only movements^ produced, or 
tending to be produced." In order to " cancel altogether the 
old metaphysical notion of force," another form of expression 
is demanded. It is claimed that all we do know or can possi- 
bly know is the successions of phenomena in time. What, 
then, is the term which henceforth, in our dynamics, shall take 
the place of "force ?" Is it "Time-succession ?" Then let any 
one attempt to express the various forms and intensities of 
movement and change presented to the senses (as e.g.., the 
phenomena of heat, electricity, galvanism, magnetism, muscu- 
lar and nervous action, etc.) in terms of Time-succession, and 
he will at once become conscious of the utter hopelessness 
of physics, without the hyperphysical idea of force, to render 
itself intelligible.' What account can be rendered of planetary 
motion if the terms "centrifugal force" and "centripetal force" 
are abandoned ? " From the two great conditions of every 
Newtonian solution, viz., projectile impulse and centripetal ten- 
dency, eject the idea oi force., and what remains ? The entire 
conception is simply made up of this, and has not the faintest 

^ See Grote's " Essay on Correlation of Physical Forces," pp. 18-20 ; and 
Martineau's " Essays," p. 135. 

14 



2IO CHRISTIANITY AND 

existence without it. It is useless to give it notice to quit, and 
pretend that it is gone when you have only put a new name 
upon the door. AVe must not call it * attraction,' lest there 
should seem to be a power within j we are to speak of it only 
as 'gravitation,' because that is only 'weight,' which is noth- 
ing but a 'fact,' as if it were not a fact that holds a power, a 
true dynamic affair, which no imagination can chop into inco- 
herent successions.^ Nor is the evasion more successful when 
we try the phrase, 'tendency of bodies to mutual approach.' 
The approach itself may be called a phenomenon ; but the 
'tendency' is no phenomenon, and can not be attributed by 
us to the bodies without regarding them as the residence of 
force. And what are we to say of the projectile impulse in the 
case of the planets ? Is that also a phenomenon ? Who wit- 
nessed and reported it? Is it not evident that the whole 
scheme of physical astronomy is a resolution of observed facts 
into dynamic equivalents, and that the hypothesis posits for its 
calculations not phenomena, but proper forces ? Its logic is 
this : If^rs. impulse of certain intensity were given, and ^such 
and such mutual attractions were constantly present, then the 
sort of motions which we observe in the bodies of our system 
would follow. So, however, they also would if willed by an 
Omnipotent Intelligence."^ It is thus clearly evident that 
human science is unable to offer any explanation of the exist- 
ing order of the universe except in terms expressive of Power 
or Force ; that, in fact, all explanations are utterly unintel- 
ligible without the idea of causation. The language of uni- 
versal rational intuition is, " all phenomena are the expression 
of power ;" the language of science is, " every law implies a 
force." 

It is furthermore worthy of being noted that, in the modern 
doctrine of the Correlation and Conservation of Forces, science 
is inevitably approaching the idea that all kinds of force are 

*' "Gravity is a real power of whose agency we have daily experience.'' — 
Herschel, *' Outlines of Astronomy," p. 236. 
* Martineau's " Essays," p. 56. 



OTtEEK PHILOSOPHY. 211 

but forms or manifestations of some 07ie central force issuing 
from some 07te fountain-head of power. Dr. Carpenter, perhaps 
the greatest living physiologist, teaches that " the form of force 
which may he taken as the type of all the rest " is the conscious- 
ness of living effort in volition.' All force, then, is of one type, 
and that type is mind ; in its last analysis external causation 
may be resolved into Divine energy. Sir John Herschel does 
not hesitate to say that " it is reasonable to regard the force of 
gravitation as the direct or indirect result of a consciousness 
or will exerted somewhere."^ The humble Christian may, 
therefore, feel himself amply justified in still believing that 
"power belongs to God ;" that it is through the Divine energy 
" all things are, and are upheld ;" and that " in God we live, 
.and move, and have our being;" he is the Great First Cause, 
the Fountain-head of all power. 

2. As to Final Causes — that is, reas'ons, purposes, or ends 
for which things exist — these, we are told by Comte, are all 
"disproved" by Positive Science, which rigidly limits us to 
" the history of what is^^ and forbids all inquiry into reasons 
why it is. The question whether there be any intelligent pur- 
pose in the order and arrangement of the universe, is not a 
subject of scientific inquiry at all ; and whenever it has been 
permitted to obtrude itself, it has thrown a false light over the 
facts, and led the inquirer astray. 

The discoveries of modern astronomy are specially in- 
stanced by Comte as completely overthrowing the notion of 
any conscious design or intelligent purpose in the universe. 
The order and stability of the solar system are found to be the 
necessary consequences of gravitation, and are adequately ex- 
plained without any reference to purposes or ends to be ful- 
filled in the disposition and arrangement of the heavenly 
bodies. "With persons unused to the study of the celestial 
bodies, though very likely informed on other parts of natural 
philosophy, astronomy has still the reputation of being a sci- 
ence eminently religious, as if the famous words, * The heavens 

^ " Human Physiology," p. 542. ^ '* Outlines of Astronomy," p. 234. 



212 CHRISTIANITY AND 

declare the glory of God,' had lost none of their truth. . . . No 
science has given more terrible shocks to the doctrine oi final 
causes than astronomy/ The simple knowledge of the move- 
ment of the earth must have destroyed the original and real 
foundation of this doctrine — the idea of the universe subordi- 
nated to the earth, and consequently to man. Besides, the ac- 
curate exploration of the solar system could not fail to dispel 
that blind and unlimited admiration which the general order of 
nature inspires, by showing in the most sensible manner, and 
in a great number of different respects, that the orbs were cer- 
tainly not disposed in the most advantageous manner, and that 
science permits us easily to conceive a better arrangement, by 
the development of true celestial mechanism, since Newton. 
All the theological philosophy, even the most perfect, has been 
henceforth deprived of its principal intellectual function, the 
most regular order being thus consigned as necessarily estab- 
lished and maintained in our world, and £ven in the whole 
universe, by the simple mutual gravity of its several parts ^"^ 

The task of " conceiving a better arrangement " of tl^e celes- 
tial orbs, and improving the system of the universe generally, 
we shall leave to those who imagine themselves possessed of 
that omniscience which comprehends all the facts and relations 
of the actual universe, and foreknows all the details and rela- 
tions of all possible universes so accurately as to be able to 

^ In a foot-note Comte adds : "Nowadays, to minds familiarized betimes 
with the true astronomical philosophy, the heavens declare no other glory 
than that of Hipparchus, Kepler, Newton, and all those who have contrib- 
uted to the ascertainment of their laws." It seems remarkable that the 
great men who ascertained these laws did not see that the saying of the 
Psalmist was emptied of all meaning by their discoveries. No persons 
seem to have been more willing than these very men named to ascribe all 
the glory to Him who established these laws. Kepler says : " The astrono- 
mer, to whom God has given to see more clearly with his inward eye, from 
what he has discovered, both can and will glorify God ;" and Newton says : 
" This beautiful system of sun, planets, comets could have its origin in no 
other way than by the purpose and command of an intelligent and powerful 
Being. We admire him on account of his perfections, we venerate and 
worship him on account of his government." — Whewell's "Astronomy and 
Physics," pp. 197, 198. 

* " Positive Philosophy," vol. ii. pp. 36-38 ; Tulloch, *' Theism," p. 115. 



GREEK PJIILOSOPHY. 213 

pronounce upon their relative " advantages." The arrogance 
of these critics is certainly in startling and ludicrous contrast 
with the affected modesty which, on other occasions, restrains 
them from " imputing any intentions to nature." It is quite 
enough for our purpose to know that the tracing of evidences 
of design in those parts of nature accessible to our observation 
is an essentially different thing frorn the construction of a 
scheme of optimisjn on d priori grounds which shall embrace 
a universe the larger portion of which is virtually beyond the 
field of observation. We are conscious of possessing some ra- 
tional data and some mental equipment for the former task, 
but for the latter we feel utterly incompetent.^ 

The only plausible argument in the above quotation from 
Comte is, that the whole phenomena of the solar system are 
adequately explained by the law of gravitation, without the in- 
tervention of any intelligent purpose. Let it be borne in mind 
that it is a fundamental principle of the Positive philosophy 
that all human knowlecj^e is necessarily confined to phenomena 
perceptible to sense, and that the last and highest achievement 
of human science is to observe and record " the invariable 
relations of resemblance and succession among phenomena." 
We can not possibly know any thing of even the existence of 
"causes" or "forces" lying back of phenomena, nor of "rea- 
sons" or "purposes" determining the relations of phenomena. 
The " law of gravitation " must, therefore, be simply the state- 
ment of a fact, the expression of an observed order of phenom- 
ena. But the simple statement of a fact is no explanation of 
the fact. The formal expression of an observed order of suc- 
cession among phenomena is no explanation of that order. 
For what do we mean by an explanation ? Is it not a " making 
plain" to the understanding? It is, in short, a complete an- 
swer to the questions how is it so ? and why is it so ? Now, if 
Comte denies to himself and to us all knowledge of efficient 
and final causation, if we are in utter ignorance of " forces " 
operating in nature, and of "reasons" for which things exist in 
^ Chalmers's " Institutes of Theology," vol. i. pp. 117, 118. 



214 CHRISTIANITY AND 

nature, he can not answer either question, and consequently 
nothing is explained. 

Practically, however, Co-mte regards gravitation as a force. 
The order of the solar system has been established and is still 
maintained by the mutual gravity of its several parts. We 
shall not stop here to note the inconsistency of his denying to 
us the knowledge of, even the existence of, force, and yet at the 
same time assuming to treat gravitation as a force really ade- 
quate to the explanation of the how and why of the phenomena 
of the universe, without any reference to a supernatural will or 
an intelligent mind. The question with which we are imme- 
diately concerned is whether gravitation alone is adequate to 
the explanation of the phenomena of the heavens ? A review 
in extenso of Comte's answer to this question would lead us into 
all the inextricable mazes of the nebular hypothesis, and in- 
volve us in a more extended discussion than our space permits 
and our limited scientific knowledge justifies. For the masses 
of the people the whole question of CQgmical development re- 
solves itself into " a balancing of authorities ;" they are not in 
a position to verify the reasonings for and against this theory 
by actual observation of astral phenomena, and the application 
of mathematical calculus ; they are, therefore, guided by bal- 
ancing in their own minds the statements of the distinguished 
astronomers who, by the united sufirages of the scientific 
world, are regarded as " authorities." For us, at present, it is 
enough that the nebular hypothesis is rejected by sorne of the 
greatest- astronomers that have lived. We need only mention 
the names of Sir William Herschel, Sir John Herschel, Prof 
Nichol, Earl Rosse, Sir David Brewster, and Prof Whewell. 

But if we grant that the nebular hypothesis is entitled to 
take rank as an established theory of the development of the 
solar system, it by no means proves that the solar system was 
formed without the intervention of intelligence and design. On 
this point we shall content ourselves with quoting the words of 
one whose encyclopaedian knowledge was confessedly equal to 
that of Comte, and who in candor and accuracy was certainly 



OBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 215 

his superior. Prof. Whewell, in his " Astronomy and Physics," 
says : " This hypothesis by no means proves that the solar sys- 
tem was formed without the intervention of intelligence and 
design. It only transfers our view of the skill exercised and 
the means employed to another part of the work ; for how 
came the sun and its atmosphere to have such materials, such 
motions, such a constitution, and these consequences followed 
from their primordial condition ? How came the parent vapor 
thus to be capable of coherence, separation, contraction, solidi- 
fication ? How came the laws of its motion, attraction, repul- 
sion, condensation, to be so fixed as to lead to a beautiful and 
harmonious system in the end ? How came it to be neither 
too fluid nor too tenacious, to contract neither too quickly nor 
too slowly for the successive formation of the several planetary 
bodies ? How came that substance, which at one time was a 
luminous vapor, to be at a subsequent period solids and fluids 
of many various kinds ? What but design and intelligence pre- 
pared and tempered this previously-existing element, so that it 
should, by its natural changes, produce such an orderly sys- 
tem ?"^ " The laws of motion alone will not produce the regu- 
larity which we admire in the motion of the heavenly bodies. 
There must be an original adjustment of the system on which 
these laws are to act ; a selection of the arbitrary quantities 
which they are to involve ; a primitive cause which shall dis- 
pose the elements in due relation to each other, in order that 
regular recurrence may accompany constant change, and that 
perpetual motion may be combined with perpetual stability."^ 

The harmony of the solar system in all its phenomena does 
not depend upon the operation of any one law, but from the 
special adjustment of several laws. There are certain agents 
operating throughout the entire system which have different 
properties, and which require special adjustment to each other, 
in order to their beneficial operation, ist. There is Gravita- 
tion^ prevailing apparently through all space. But it does not 

^ "Astronomy and Physics," p. 109. 

'^ Chalmers's " Institutes of Theology," vol. i. p. 119. 



2i6 CHRISTIANITY AND 

prevail alone. It is a force whose function is to balance other 
forces of which we know little, except that these, again, are 
needed to balance the force of gravitation. Each force, if left 
to itself, would be the destruction of the universe. Were it not 
for the force of gravitation, the centrifugal forces wdiich impel 
the planets would fling them off into space. Were it not for 
these centrifugal forces, the force of gravitation would dash 
them against the sun. The ultimate fact of astronomical sci- 
ence, therefore, is not the law of gravitation, but the adjustffteht 
between this law and other laws, so as to produce and main- 
tain the existing order. ^ 2d. There is Light, flowing from num- 
berless luminaries ; and Heat, radiating everywhere from the 
warmer to the colder regions ; and there are a number of ad- 
justments needed in order to the beneficial operation of these 
agents. Suppose we grant that by merely mechanical causes 
the sun became the centre of our system, how did it become 
also the source of its vivifying influe?tces? "How was the fire 
deposited on this hearth ? How was the candle placed on this 
candlestick?" 3d. There is an all -pervading Ether, through 
which light is transmitted, which offers resistance to the move- 
ment of the planetary and cometary bodies, and tends to a dis- 
sipation of mechanical energy, and which needs to be counter- 
balanced by well-adjusted arrangements to secure the stability 
of the solar system. All this balancing of opposite properties 
and forces carries our minds upward towards Him who holds 
the balances in his hands, and to a Supreme Intelligence on 
whose adjustments and collocations the harmony and stability 
of the universe depends.^ 

The recognition of all teleology of organs in vegetable and 
animal physiology is also persistently repudiated by this school. 
When Cuvier speaks of the combination of organs in such 
order as to adapt the animal to the part which it has to play in 
nature, Geoffroy Saint Hilaire replies, " I know nothing of ani- 
mals which have to play a part in nature." " I have read, con- 

' Duke of Argyll, " Reign of Law," pp. 91, 92. 

^ M'Cosh, " Typical Forms and Special Ends," ch. xiii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 217 

cerning fishes, that, because they live in a medium which re- 
sists more than air, their motive forces are calculated so as to 
give them the power of progression under these circumstances. 
By this mode of reasoning, you would say of a man who makes 
use of crutches, that he was originally destined to the misfor- 
tune of having a leg paralyzed or amputated."^ With a m.od- 
esty which savors of affectation, he says, " I ascribe no inten- 
tions to God, for I mistrust the feeble powers of my reason. I 
observe facts merely, and go no farther. I only pretend to the 
character of the historian of what is J'' " I can not make Nature 
an intelligent being who does nothing in vain, who acts by the 
shortest mode, who does all for the best.'"^ All the supposed 
consorting of means to ends which has hitherto been regarded 
as evidencing Intelligence is simply the result of "the elective 
affinities of organic elements " and " the differentiation of or- 
gans" consequent mainly upon exterior conditions. ^^Func- 
tions are a result^ not an end. The animal undergoes the kind 
of life that his organs impose, and submits to the imperfections 
of his organization. The naturalist studies the play of his ap- 
paratus, and if he has the right of admiring most of its parts, 
he has likewise that of showing the imperfection of other parts, 
and the practical uselessness of those which fulfill no func- 
tions.""'' And it is further claimed that there are a great many 
structures which are clearly useless ; that is, they fulfill no pur- 
pose at all. Thus there are monkeys, which have no thumbs 
for use, but only rudimental thumb -bones hid beneath the 
skin ; the wingless bird of New Zealand (Apteryx) has wing- 
bones similarly developed, which serve no purpose ; young 
whalebone whales are born with teeth that never cut the gums, 
and are afterwards absorbed; and some sheep have horns 
turned about their ears which fulfill no end. And inasmuch as 
there are some organisms in nature which serve no purpose of 

^ Whewel], " History of Inductive Sciences," vol. ii. p. 486. 
"^ Id., ib., vol. ii. p. 490, 

^ Martin's " Organic Unity in Animals and Vegetables," in M. Q. Review, 
January, 1863. 



2i8 CHBISTIANITT AND 

Utility, it is argued there is no design in nature ; things are used 
because there are antecedent conditions favorable for use^ but 
that use is not the end for which the organ exists. The true 
naturalist will never say, " Birds have wings given them in order 
to fly;" he will rather say, "Birds fly because they have wings." 
The doctrine of final causes must, therefore, be abandoned. 

It is hardly worth while to reply to the lame argument of 
Geoffroy, which needs a " crutch " for its support. The very 
illustration, undignified and irrelevant as it is, tells altogether 
against its author. For, first, the crutch is certainly a con- 
trivance designed for locomotion ; secondly, the length and 
strength and lightness of the crutch are all matters of calcula- 
tion and adjustment ; and, thirdly, all the adaptations of the 
crutch are well considered, in order to enable the lame man to 
walk ; the function of the crutch is the final cause of its drea- 
tion. This crutch is clearly out of place in Geoffiroy's argu- 
ment, and utterly breaks down. It is in its place in the teleo- 
logical argument, and stands well, though it may not behave as 
well as the living limb. The understanding of a child can per- 
ceive that the design-argument does not assert that men were 
intended to have amputated limbs, but that crutches are de- 
signed for those whose limbs are paralyzed or amputated. 

The existence of useless members, of rudimentary and abor- 
tive limbs, does seem, at first sight, to be unfavorable to the 
idea of supremacy of purpose and all -pervading design. It 
should be remarked, however, that this is an argument based 
upon our ignorance, and not upon our knowledge. It does 
not by any means follow that because we have discovered no 
reasons for their existence, therefore there are no reasons. 
Science, in enlarging its conquests of nature, is perpetually dis- 
covering the usefulness of arrangements of which our fathers 
were ignorant, and the reasons of things which to their minds 
were concealed ; and it ill becomes the men who so far " mis- 
trust their own feeble powers " as to be afraid of ascribing any 
intention to God or nature, to dogmatically aflirm there is no 
purpose in the existence of any thing. And then we may ask, 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 219 

what right have these men to set up the idea of " utility " as the 
only standard to which the Creator must conform ? How came 
they to know that God is a mere " utilitarian ;" or, if they do 
not believe in God, that nature is a miserable " Benthamite ?" 
Why may not the idea of beauty, of symmetry, of order, be a 
standard for the universe, as much as the idea of utility, or mere 
subordination to some practical end ? May not conformity to 
one grand and comprehensive plan, sweeping over all nature, 
be perfectly compatible with the adaptation of individual exist- 
ences to the fulfillment of special ends? In civil architecture 
we have conformity to a general plan ; we have embellishment 
and ornament, and we have adaptation to a special purpose, 
all combined j why may not these all be combined in the archi- 
tecture of the universe ? The presence of any one of these is 
sufficient to prove design, for mere ornament or beauty is itself 
a purpose, an object, and an end. The concurrence of all 
these is an overwhelming evidence- of design. Wherever 
found, they are universally recognized as the product of intelli- 
gence ; they address themselves at once to the intelligence of 
man, and they place him in immediate relation to and in deep- 
est s}Tnpathy with the Intelligence which gave them birth. He 
that formed the eye of man to see, and the heart of man to 
admire beauty, shall He not delight in it ? He that gave the 
hand of man its cunning to create beauty, shall He not himself 
work for it ? And if man can and does combine both " orna- 
ment" and "use" in one and the same implement or machine, 
why should not the Creator of the world do the same ? "When 
the savage carves the handle of his war-club, the immediate 
purpose of his carving is to give his own hand a firmer hold. 
But any shapeless scratches would be enough for this. When 
he carves it in an elaborate pattern, he does so for the love of 
ornament, and to satisfy the sense of beauty." And so "the 
harmonies, on which ail beauty depends, are so connected in 
nature that use and ornament may often both arise out of the 
same conditions."^ 

^ Duke of Argyll, "Reign of Law," p. 203. 



220 CHRISTIANITY AND 

The " true naturalist," therefore, recognizes two great prin- 
ciples pervading the universe — a principle of order — a unity 
of plan, and a principle of special adaptation^ by which each 
object, though constructed upon a general plan, is at the same 
time accommodated to the place it has to occupy and the pur- 
pose it has to serve. In other words, there is homology of 
structure and analogy of function^ conformity to archetypal forms 
and Teleology of organs, in wonderful combination. Now, in 
the Materialistic school, it has been the prevalent practice to 
set up the unity of plan in animal structures, in opposition to 
the principle of Final Causes : Morphology has been opposed 
to Teleology. But in nature there is no such opposition ; on 
the contrary, there is a beautiful co-ordination. The same 
bones, in different animals, are made subservient to the widest- 
possible diversity of functions. The same limbs are converted 
into fins, paddles, wings, legs, and arms. "No comparative 
anatomist has the slightest hesitation in admitting that the 
pectoral fin of a fish, the wing of a bird, the paddle of the dol- 
phin, the fore-leg of a deer, the wing of a bat, and the arm of a 
man, are the same organs, not^vithstanding that their forms are 
so varied, and the uses to which they are applied so unlike 
each other."^ All these are homologous in structure — they are 
formed after an ideal archetype or model, but that model or 
type is variously modified to adapt the animal to the sphere of 
life in which it is destined to move, and the organ itself to the 
functions it has to perform, whether swimming, flying, walking, 
or burrowing, or that varied manipulation of which the human 
hand is capable. These varied modifications of the vertebrated 
type, for special purposes, are unmistakable examples of final 
causation. Whilst the silent members, the rudimental limbs 
instanced by Oken, Martins, and others — as fulfilling no pur- 
pose, and serving no end, exist in conformity to an ideal arche- 
type on which the bony skeletons of all vertebrated animals 
are formed,^ and which has never been departed from since 

' Carpenter's " Comparative Physiolog}'," p. 37. 
"^ Agassiz, " Essay on Classification," p. 10. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 221 

time began. This type, or model, or plan, is, however, itself 
an evidence of design as much as the plan of a house. For to 
what standard are we referring when we say that two limbs 
are morphologically the same ? Is it not an ideal plan, a mefi- 
tal pattern, a metaphysical conception ? Now an ideal implies 
a mind which preconceived the idea, and in which alone it 
really exists. It is only as "an order of Divine thought that 
the doctrine of animal homiologies is at all intelligible ; and 
Homology is, therefore, the science which traces the outward 
embodiment of a Divine Idea.' The principle of intentionality 
or final causation, then, is not in any sense invalidated by the 
discovery of " a unity of plan " sweeping through the entire 
universe. 

We conclude that we are justly entitled to regard "the 
principle of intentionality" as a primary and necessary law of 
thought, under which we can not avoid conceiving and describ- 
ing the facts of the universe — the special adaptation of means to 
ends necessarily implies mind. Whenever and wherever we ob- 
serve the adaptation of an organism to the fulfillment of a spe- 
cial end, we can not avoid conceiving of that end2i's> foreseen and 
premeditated, the means as selected and adjusted with a view 
to that end, and creative energy put forth to secure the end — 
all which is the work of intelligence and will.'^ And we can 
not describe these facts of nature, so as to render that account 
intelligible to other minds, without using such terms as "con- 
trivance," "purpose," "adaptation," "design." A striking il- 
lustration of this may be found in Darwin's volume " On the 
Fertilization of Orchids." We select from his volume with all 
the more pleasure because he is one of the writers who enjoins 
"caution in ascribing intentions td" nature." In one sentence 
he says : " The Labellum is developed into a long nectary, in 
order to attract Lepidoptera ; and we shall presently give rea- 
sons for suspecting the nectar \^ purposely so lodged that it can 

^ Whe well's " History of Inductive Sciences," vol. i. p. 644 ; " The Reign 
of Law," p. 208 ; Agassiz, " Essay on Classification," pp. 9-1 1. 
^ Carpenter's ** Principles of Comparative Physiology," p. 723. 



222 CHBISTIANITY AND 

be sucked only slowly, ijt order to give time for the curious 
chemical quality of the viscid matter settling hard and dry " 
(p. 29). Of one particular structure he says : " This contriv- 
ance of the guiding ridges may be compared to the little instru- 
ment sometimes used for guiding a thread into the eye of a 
needle." The notion that every organism has a use or pur- 
pose seems to have guided him in his discoveries. "The 
strange position of the Labellum, perched on the summit of the 
column, ought to have shown me that here was the place for 
experiment. I ought to have scorned the notion that the La- 
bellum was thus placed for no good purpose. I neglected this 
plain guide, and for a long time completely failed to understand 
the flower" (p. 262).^ 

So that the assumption of final causes has not, as Bacon 
affirms, "led men astray" and "prejudiced further discovery;" 
on the contrary, it has had a large share in every discovery in 
anatomy and physiology, zoology and botany. The use of 
every organ has been discovered by starting from the assump- 
tion that it must have some use. The belief in a creative pur- 
pose led Harvey to discover the circulation of the blood. He 
says : " When I took notice that the valves in the veins of so 
many parts of the body were so placed that they gave a free 
passage to the blood towards the heart, but opposed the pas- 
sage of the venal blood the contrary way, I was incited to im- 
agine that so provident a cause as Nature has not placed so 
many valves without design^ and no design seemed more proba- 
ble than the circulation of the blood. "'^ The wonderful discov- 
eries in Zoology which have immortalized the name of Cuvier 
were made under the guidance of this principle. He proceeds 
on the supposition not onl^ that animal forms have some plan, 
'some purpose, but that they have an intelligible plan, a discov- 
erable purpose. At the outset of his " R<igne Ajii7nal" he says : 
"Zoology has a principle of reasoning which is peculiar to it, 
and which it employs to advantage on many occasions ; that is, 

' Edinburgh Review, October, 1862 ; article, "The Supernatural." 
^ " History of Inductive Science," vol. ii. p. 449. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 223 

the principle of the conditions of existence, commonly called 
final causes."^ The application of this principle enabled him 
to understand and arrange the structures of animals with as- 
tonishing clearness and completeness of order ; and to restore 
the forms of extinct animals which are found in the rocks, in a 
manner which excited universal admiration, and has command- 
ed universal assent. Indeed, as Professor Whewell remarks, 
at the conclusion of his " History of the Inductive Sciences," 
"those who have been discoverers in science have generally 
had minds, the disposition of which was to believe in an iiitelli- 
gent Maker of the universe, and that the scientific speculations 
which produced an opposite tendency were generally those 
which, though they might deal familiarly with known physical 
truths, an(? conjecture boldly with regard to unknown, do not 
add to the number of solid generalizations."^ 

^ " History of Inductive Science," vol. ii. p. 2, Eng. ed. 
^ Ibid., vol. ii. p. 491. A list of the "great discoverers" is given in his 
"Astronomy and Physics," bk. iii. ch. v. 



224 



CHRISTIANITY AXD 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE UNKNOWN GOD {cO?ltmiied). 

IS GOD COGNIZABLE BY REASON? [continued). 

" The faith which can not stand unless buttressed by contradictions is 
built upon the sand. The profoundest faith is faith in the unity of truth. 
If there is found any conflict in the results of a right reason, no appeal to 
practical interests, or traditionary authority, or intuitional or theological 
faith, can stay the flood of skepticism." — Abbot. 

IN the previous chapter we have considered the 'answers to 
this question which are given by the Ideahstic and Material- 
istic schools ; it devolves upon us now to review (iii.) the posi- 
tion of the school of Natu7'al Realism or Natural Dualism^ at 
the head of which stands Sir William Hamilton. 

It is admitted by this school that philosophic knowledge is 
"the knowledge of effects as dependent on their causes,"^ and 
" of qualities as inherent in substances."^ 

I. As to Events and Causes. — " Events do not occur isolated, 
apart, by themselves ; they occur and are conceived by us only 
in connection. Our observation affords us no example of a 
phenomenon which is not an effect ; nay, our thought can not 
even reahze to itself the possibility of a phenomenon without a 
cause. By the necessity we are under of thinking some cause 
for every phenomenon, and by our original ignorance of what 
particular causes belong to what particular effects, it is ren- 
dered impossible for us to acquiesce in the mere knowledge 
of the fact of the phenomenon ; on the contrary, we are deter- 
mined, we are necessitated to regard each phenomenon as only 
partially known until we discover the causes on which it depends 
for its existence.^ Philosophic knowledge is thus, in its widest 

* " Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. i. p. 58. ° Ibid., vol. i. p. 138. 

' Ibid., vol. i. p. 56. 



OREEK PHILOSOPHY. 225 

acceptation, the knowledge of effects as dependent on causes. 
Now what does this imply ? In the first place, as every cause 
to which we can ascend is only ah effect, it follows that it is 
the scope, that is, the aim, of philosophy to trace up the series 
of effects and causes until we arrive at causes which are not in 
themselves effects"^ — that is, to ultimate and final causes. And 
then, finally, " Philosophy, as the knowledge of effects in their 
causes, necessarily tends, not towards a plurality of ultimate or 
final causes, but towards one alone."^ 

2. As to Qualities and Substance, or Phenomejia and Reality. — 
"As phenomena appear only in conjunction, we are compelled, 
by the constitution of our nature, to think them conjoined in 
and by something ; and as they are phenomena, w^e can not 
think them phenomena of nothing, but must regard them as 
properties or qualities of something."^ " Now that which mani- 
fests its qualities — in other words, that in which the appearing 
causes inhere, that to whic?i they belong — is called their subject, 
or substance, or substratumJ^^ The subject of one grand series 
of phenomena (as, e.g., extension, solidity, figure, etc.) is called 
matter, or material substance. The subject of the other grand 
series of phenomena (as, e.g., thought, feeling, volition, etc.) is 
termed mind, or mejital substance. "We may, therefore, lay it 
down as an undisputed truth that consciousness gives, as an 
ultimate fact, a primitive duality — a knowledge of the ego in re- 
lation and contrast to the iion-ego, and a knowledge of the non- 
ego in relation and contrast to the ego.^"*^ Natural Dualism thus 
" establishes the existence of two worlds of mind and matter on 
the immediate knowledge we possess of both series of phenom- 
ena;" whilst the Cosmothetic Idealists discredit the veracity 
of consciousness as to our immediate knowledge of material 
phenomena, and, consequently, our immediate knowledge of the 
existence of matter. ^^'^ 

The obvious doctrine of the above quotations is, that we 

* " Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. i. p. 58. ^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 60. 

^ Ibid, vol. i. p. 137. * Ibid., vol. i. p. 137. 

^ Ibid,, vol. i. p. 292. ^ Ibid., vol. i. pp. 292, 295. 

15 



2 26 CHRISTIANITY AND 

have an immediate knowledge of the ^^ existence of matter" as 
well as of " the phefioinena of matter ;" that is, we know " ^z/<5- 
stance " 2iS immediately and directly as we \x\Qm '''' qualities'^ 
Phenomena are known only as inherent in substance ; sub- 
stance is known only as manifesting its qualities. We never 
know qualities without knowing substance, and we can never 
know substance without knowing qualities. Both are known 
in one concrete act; substance is known quite as much as 
quality ; quality is known no more than substance. That we 
have a direct, immediate, presentative "face to face" knowl- 
edge of matter and mind in every act of consciousness is as- 
serted again and again by Hamilton, in his "Philosophy of 
Perception."^ In the course of the discussion he starts the 
question, '■'■Is the knowledge of mind and matter equally im7ne- 
diateV' His answer to this question may be condensed in the 
following sentences. In regard to the immediate knowledge 
of mind there is no difficulty ; it is admitted to be direct and 
immediate. The problem, therefore, exclusively regards the 
intuitive perception of the qualities of matter. Now, says Ham- 
ilton, "if we interrogate consciousness concerning the point in 
question, the response is categorical and clear. In the sim- 
plest act of perception I am conscious of myself as a perceiv- 
ing subject ^ and of an external reality as the object perceived ; 
and I am conscious of both existences in the same indivisible 
amount of intuition."^ Again he says, "I have frequently as- 
serted that in perception we are conscious of the external ob- 
ject, immediately and in itself. '^ " If, then, the veracity of con- 
sciousness be unconditionally admitted — if the intuitive knowl- 
edge of matter and mind, and the consequent reality of their an- 
tithesis, be taken as truths," the doctrine of Natural Realism is 
established, and, "without any hypothesis or demonstration, 
the reality of mi?td and the reality of matter.''^ 

Now, after these explicit statements that we have an intui- 
tive knowledge of matter and mind — a direct and immediate 

^ Philosophy of Sir William Hamilton, part ii. 

^ Ibid., p. i8i. ^ Ibid., pp. 34, 182. 



GREEK PHILOSOrHY. 227 

consciousness of self as a real, " self-subsisting entit}^," and a 
knowledge of '•' an external reality, immediately and m itself ^'^ 
it seems unaccountably strange that Hamilton should assert 
" that all human knowledge, co7isequently all human philosophy, is 
only of the Relative or Phenonwial •'^^ and that ^^ of existe?ice abso- 
lutely and in itself we know nothing.^''^ Whilst teaching that the 
proper sphere and aim of philosophy is to trace secondary 
causes up to ultimate or first causes, and that it necessarily tends 
towards one First and Ultimate Cause, he ^it the same time as- 
serts that " first causes do not lie within the reach of philoso- 
phy,"^ and that it can never attain to the knowledge of the 
First Cause.* " The Infinite God can not, by us, be compre- 
hended, conceived, or thought."^ God,, as First Cause, as in- 
finite, as unconditioned, as eternal, is to us absolutely '■^The 
Unhiown.^^ The science of Real Being — of Being in se — of 
self-subsisting entities, is declared to be impossible. All sci- 
ence is only of the phenomenal, the conditioned, the relative. 
Ontology is a delusive dreatn. Thus, after pages of explana- 
tions and qualifications, of affirmations and denials, we find 
Hamilton virtually assuming the same position as Comte and 
Mill — all human knowledge is necessarily confined to phenomena. 

It has been supposed that the chief glory of Sir William 
Hamilton rested upon his able exposition and defense of the 
doctrine of Natural Realism. There are, however, indications 
in his writings that he regarded " the Philosophy of the Con- 
ditioned " as his grand achievement. The Law of the Condi- 
tioned had "not been generalized by any previous philoso- 
pher ;" and, in laying down that law, he felt that he had made 
a new and important contribution to speculative thought. 
The principles upon which this philosophy is based are : 
I. The Relativity of all Human Knowledge. — Existence is not 
cognized absolutely and in itself, but only under special modes 
which are related to our faculties, and, in fact, determined by 

^ " Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. i. p. 136, - Ibid., vol. i. p. 138. 

^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 58. ^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 60. 

^ Ibid., vol. ii. p. 375. 



2 28 CHRISTIANITY AND 

these faculties themselves. All knowledge, therefore, is 7'ela- 
tive — that is, it is of phenomena only, and of phenomena " mi- 
der modifications determined by our own faculties." Now, as 
the Absolute is that which exists out of all relation either to 
phenomena or to our faculties of knowledge, it can not possi- 
bly be known. 

2. The Co?iditionality of all Thinking. — Thought necessarily 
supposes conditions. " To think is to condition j and condi- 
tional limitation is. the fundamental law of the possibility of 
thought. As the eagle can not out-soar the atmosphere in 
which he floats, and by which alone he is supported, so the 
mind can not transcend the sphere of limitation within and 
through which the possibility of thought is realized. Thought 
is only of the conditioned, because, as we have said, to think is 
to condition."^ Now the Infinite is the unlimited, the uncon- 
ditioned, and as such can not possibly be thought. 

3. The notion of the Infifiite — the Absolute, as entertained by 
man, is a mere ^^ negatiofi of thought.^'' — By this Hamilton does 
not mean that the idea of the Infinite is a negative idea. " The 
Infinite and the Absolute are only the names of two counter 
imbecilities of the human mind '"* — that is, a mental inability to 
conceive an absolute limitation, or an infinite illimitation ; an 
absolute commencement, or an infinite non-commencement. 
In other words, of the absolute and infinite we have no concep- 
tion at all, and, consequently, no knowledge.^ 

The grand law which Hamilton generalizes from the above 
is, " that the conceivable is in every relation boitnded by the incon- 
ceivable.^^ Or, again, "The conditioned or the thinkable lies 
between two extremes or poles ; and these extremes or poles 
are each of them unconditioned, each of them inconceivable, 
each of them exclusive or contradictory of the other."^ This 
is the celebrated "Law of the Conditioned." 

In attempting a brief criticism of " the Philosophy of the 
Conditioned," we may commence by inquiring : 

^ " Discussions,'' p. 21. ^ Ibid., p. 28. 

^ " Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. ii. pp. 368, 373. ^ Ibid., vol. ii. p. 373. 



OREEK PHILOSOPHY. 229 

I. What is the real i7Jtport and significance of the doctrine "that 
all human knowledge is only of the relative or phenomenal V^ 

Hamilton calls this "the great axiom" of philosophy. That 
we may distinctly comprehend its meaning, and understand its 
bearing on the subject under discussion, we must ascertain the 
sense in which he uses the words "phenomenaP^ and "relative.''' 
The importance of an exact terminology is fully appreciated by 
our author ; and accordingly, in three Lectures (VIII., IX., X.), 
he has given a full explication of the terms most commonly em- 
ployed in philosophic discussions. Here the word " phettome- 
non'^ is set down as the necessary "correlative^^ of the word 
"subject" or " siibstaJice." "These terms can not be explained 
apart, for each is correlative of the other, each can be compre- 
hended only in and through its correlative. The term ^ sub- 
ject^ is used to denote the unknown (?) basis which lies under 
the various phenomejia or properties of which we become aware, 
whether in our external or internal experience."^ "The term 
^ relative^ is opposed to the term '■absolute •' therefore, in saying 
that we know only the relative, I virtually assert that we know 
nothing absolutely, that is, in and for itself^ and without relation 
to us and our faculties."'^ Now, in the philosophy of Sir William 
Hamilton, "the absolute" is defined as "that which is aloof 
from relation " — " that which is out of all relation."^ The ab- 
solute can not, therefore, be "the correlative" of the conditioned 
— can not stand in any relation to the phenomenal. The sub- 
ject, however, is the necessary correlative of the phenomenal, 
and, consequently, the subject and the absolute are not identi- 
cal. Furthermore, Hamilton tells us the subject may be com- 
prehended in and through its correlative — the phenomenon ; but 
the absolute, being aloof from all relation, can not be compre- 
hended or conceived at all. "The subject" and "the abso- 
lute" are, therefore, not synonymous terms; and, if they are 
not synonymous, then their antithetical terms, " phenomenal " 
and " relative," can not be synonymous. 

* " Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. i. p. 148. ^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 137. 

} "Discussions," p. 21. 



230 CHRISTIANITY AND 

It is manifest, however, that Hamilton does employ these 
terms as synonymous, and this we apprehend is the first false 
step in his philosophy of the conditioned. " All our knowledge 
is of the relative or phenomenal." Throughout the whole of 
Lectures VIII. and IX., in which he explains the doctrine of 
the relativity of human knowledge, these terms are used as pre- 
cisely analogous. Now, in opposition to this, we maintain that 
the relative is not always the phenomenal. A thing may be 
"in relation" and yet not be a phenomenon. " The subject or 
substance " may be, and really is, on the admission of Hamil- 
ton himself, correlated to the phenomenon. The ego, " the con- 
scious subject" as a ^''self-subsisting efitity," is necessarily re- 
lated to the phenomena of thought, feeling, etc. ; but no one 
would repudiate the idea that the conscious subject is a mere 
phenomenon, or " series of phenomena," with more indignation 
than Hamilton. Notwithstanding the contradictory assertion, 
" that the subject is unknown," he still teaches, with equal posi- 
tiveness, " that in every act of perception I am conscious of 
self, as a perceiving subject."^ And still more explicitly he 
says : " As clearly as I am conscious of existing, so clearly am 
I conscious, at every moment of my existence, that the con- 
scious Ego is not itself a mere modification [a phenomenon], 
nor a series of modifications [phenomena], but that it is itself 
different from all its modifications, and a self-subsisting eiitityy"^ 
Again : " Thought is possible only in and through the con- 
sciousness of Self. The Self, the I, is recognized in every act 
of intelligence as the subject to which the act belongs. It is I 
that perceive, I that imagine, I that remember, etc. ; these spec- 
ial modes are all only the phenomena of the I."^ We are, 
therefore, conscious of the subject in the most immediate, and 
direct, and intuitive manner, and the subject of which we are 
conscious can not be '•^ unknown ^ We regret that so distin- 
guished a philosophy should deal in such palpable contradic- 
tions ; but it is the inevitable consequence of violating that 

* Philosophy of Sir William Hamilton (edited by O. W. Wight), p. 181. 
' " Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. i. p. 373. ^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 166. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 23 1 

fundamental principle of philosophy on which Hamilton so fre- 
quently and earnestly insists, viz., " that the testimony of con- 
sciousness must be accepted in all its integrity." 

It is thus obvious that, with proper qualifications, we may 
admit the relativity of human kjtowiedge^ and yet at the same 
time reject "the doctrine of Hamilton, that all human knowledge 
is only of the phe7i07ne7ial. 

"The relativity of human knowledge," like most other 
phrases into which the word " relative " enters, is vague, and 
admits of a variety of meanings. If by this phrase is meant 
"that we can not know objects except as related to our facul- 
ties, or as our faculties are related to them," we accept the 
statement, but regard it as a mere truism leading to no conse- 
quences, and hardly w^orth stating in words. It is simply 
another way of saying that, in order to an object's being known, 
it must come within the range of our intellectual vision, and 
that we can only know as much as we are capable of knowing. 
Or, if b}'' this phrase is meant " that we can only know things 
by and through the phenomena they present," we admit this 
also, for we can no more know substances apart from their 
properties, than we can know qualities apart from the substan- 
ces in which they inhere. Substances can be known only in 
and through their phenomena. Take away the properties, and 
the thing has no longer any existence. Eliminate extension, 
form, density, etc., from matter, and what have you left t "The 
thing in itself," apart from its qualities, is nothing. Or, again, 
if by the relativity of knowledge is meant " that all conscious- 
ness, all thought are relative," we accept this statement also. 
To conceive, to reflect, to know, is to deal with difference and 
relation; the relation of subject and object; the relation of 
objects among themselves ; the relation of phenomena to re- 
ality, of becoming to being. The reason of man is unquestion- 
ably correlated to that which is beyond phenomena ; it is able 
to apprehend the necessary relation between phenomena and 
being, extension and space, succession and time, event and 
cause, the finite and the infinite. We may thus admit the rela- 



232 CHBISTIANITY AND 

tive character of human thought, and at the same time deny 
thaf it is an ontological disquahfication/ 

It is not, however, in any of these precise forms that Ham- 
ilton holds the doctrine of the relativity of knowledge. He 
assumes a middle place between Reid and Kant, and endeav- 
ors to blend the subjective idealism of the latter with the re- 
alism of the former. " He identifies the phenomenon of the 
German with the quality of the British philosophy,"^ and as- 
serts, as a regulative law of thought, that the quality implies 
the substance, and the phenomenon the noumenon, but makes 
the substratum or noumenon (the object in itself) unknown 
and unknowable. The " phenomenon " of Kant was, however 
something essentially different from the "quality" of Reid. 
In the philosophy of Yi.2int, phe7iome7ton means an object as we 
envisage or represent it to ourselves, in opposition to the 
noumenon^ or a thing as it is in itself. The phenomenon is 
composed, in part, of subjective elements supplied by the mind 
itself; as regards intuition, the forms of space and time ; as 
regards thought, the categories of Quantity, Qualit}^, Relation, 
and Modality. To perceive a thing in itself would be to per- 
ceive it neither in space nor in time. To think a thing in it- 
self would be not to think it under any of the categories. The 
phenomenal is thus the product of the inherent laws of our 
own constitution, and, as such, is the sum and limit of all our 
knowledge.^ 

This, in its main features, is evidently the doctrine pro- 
pounded by Hamilton. The special modes in which existence 
is cognizable " are presented to, and known by, the mind under 
modifications determined by the faculties themselves J^^ This doc- 
trine he illustrates by the following supposition : " Suppose the 
total object of consciousness in perception is=i2; and suppose 
that the external reality contributes 6, the material sense 3, 

' Martineau's " Essays," p. 234. 

"^ M'Cosh's " Defense of Fundamental Truth," p. 106. 

® Mansel's "Lectures on the Philosophy of Kant," pp. 21, 22. 

* Hamilton's " Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. i. p. 148. 



GREEK FHILOSOFHT. 233 

and the mind 3 ; this may enable you to form some rude con- 
jecture of the nature of the object of perception."^ The con- 
clusion at which Hamilton arrives, therefore, is that things are 
not known to us as they exist, but simply as they appear, and 
as our minds are capable of perceiving them. 

Let us test the validity of this majestic deliverance. No 
man is justified in making this assertion unless, i. He knows 
things as they exist ; 2. He knows things not only as they exist 
but as they appear ; 3. He is able to compare things as they 
exist with the same things as they appear. Now, inasmuch as 
Sir William Hamilton affirms we do not know things as they 
exist, but only as they appear, how can he know that there is 
any difference between things as they exist and as they appear ? 
What is this " thing in itself^'' about which Hamilton has so 
much to say, and yet about which he professes to know nothing? 
We readily understand what is meant by the thing ; it is the 
object as existing — a substance manifesting certain characteris- 
tic qualities. But what is meant by in itself 1 There can be 
no in itself besides or beyond the thing. If Hamilton means 
that "the thing itself" is the thing apart from all relation, and 
devoid of all properties or qualities, we do not acknowledge 
any such thing. A thing apart from all relation, and devoid 
of all qualities, is simply pure nothing, if such a solecism may 
be permitted. With such a definition of Being in se, the logic 
of Hegel is invincible, " Being and Nothing are identical." 

And now, if "the thing in itself" be, as Hamilton says it is, 
absolutely tinknown, how can he affirm or deny any thing in 
regard to it ? By what right does he prejudge a hidden reality, 
and give or refuse its predicates; as, for example, that it is 
conditioned or unconditioned, in relation or aloof from relation, 
finite or infinite ? Is it not plain that, in declaring a thing in 
its inmost nature or essence to be inscrutable, it is assumed to 
be partially known ? And it is obvious, notwithstanding some 
unguarded expressions to the contrary, that Hamilton does 

^ Hamilton's " Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. ii. p. 129 ; and also vol. i. 
p. 147. 



234 CHRISTIANITY AND 

regard " the thing in itself" as partially known. " The external 
reality " is, at least, six elements out of twelve in the " total ob- 
ject of consciousness."^ The primary qualities of matter are 
known as in the things themselves ; " they develop themselves 
with rigid necessity out of the simple datum of substance occupy- 
ing space y^ "The Primary Qualities are apprehended as they 
are in bodies " — " they are the attributes of hody as body^^ and 
as such "are known immediately in themselves,"^ as well as 
mediately by their effects upon^ us. So that we not only know 
by direct consciousness certain properties of things as they exist 
in things themselves, but we can also deduce them in an d pri- 
ori manner. " The bare notion of matter being given, the Pri- 
mary Qualities may be deduced d priori; they being, in fact, 
only evolutions of the conditions which that notion necessarily 
implies." If, then, we know the qualities of things as " in the 
things themselves," " the things themselves " must also be, at 
least, partially known ; and Hamilton can not consistently as- 
sert the relativity of all knowledge. Even if it be granted that 
our cognitions of objects are only in part dependent on the 
objects themselves, and in part on elements superadded by our 
organism, or by our minds, it can not warrant the assertion 
that all our knowledge, but only the part so added, is relative. 
" The admixture of the relative element not only does not take 
away the absolute character of the remainder, but does not 
even (if our author is right) prevent us from recognizing it. 
The confusion, according to him, is not inextricable. It is 
for us *to analyze and distinguish what elements,' in an *act 
of knowledge,' are contributed by the object, and what by the 
organs or by the mind."* 

Admitting the relative character of human thought as a psy- 
chological fact, Mr. Martineau has conclusively shown that this 
law, instead of visiting us with disability to transcend phenom- 
ena, operates as a revelatioii of what exists beyond. " The finite 

* "Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. ii. p. 129. 

' Philosophy of Sir Wm. Hamilton, p. 357. ^ Ibid, pp. 377, 378. 

* Mill's " Examination of Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i. p. 44. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 23^ 

body cut out before our visual perception, or embraced by the 
hands, lies as an island in the emptiness around, and without 
comparative reference to this can not be represented : the same 
experience which gives us the definite object gives us also the 
infinite space; and both terms — the limited appearance and 
the unlimited ground — are apprehended with equal certitude 
and clearness, and furnished with names equally susceptible of 
distinct use in predication and reasoning. The transient suc- 
cessions, for instance, the strokes of a clock, which we count, 
present themselves to us as dotted out upon a line of permanent 
duration ; of which, without them, we should have no appre- 
hension, but which as their condition, is unreservedly known.'" 

" What we have said with regard to space, and time applies 
equally to the case of Causation. Here, too, the finite offered 
to perception introduces to an Infinite supplied by thought. 
As a definite body reveals also the space around, and an inter- 
rupted succession exhibits the uniform time beneath, so does 
the passing phenomenon demand for itself a power beneath. 
The space, and time, and power, not being part of the thing 
perceived, but its conditions, are guaranteed to us, therefore, 
on the warrant, not of sense, but of intellect."^ 

" We conclude, then, on reviewing these examples of Space, 
and Time, and Causation, that ontological ideas introducing us 
to certain fixed entities belong no less to our knowledge than 
scientific ideas of phenomenal disposition and succession."^ 
In these instances of relation between a phenomenon given in 
perception and an entity as a logical condition, the correlatives 
are on a perfect equality of intellectual validity, and the relative 
character of human thought is not an ontological disqualifica- 
tion, but a cognitive power. 

There is a thread of fallacy running through the whole of 
Hamilton's reasonings, consequent upon a false definition of 
the Absolute at the outset. The Absolute is defined as that 
which exists in and by itself^ aloof from and out of all relation. 
An absolute, as thus defined, does not and can not exist ; it is 

* " Essays," pp. 193, 194. "^ Ibid., p. 197. ^ Ibid., p. 195. 



236 CHRISTIANITY AND 

a pure abstraction, and, in fact, a pure non-entity. " The Ab- 
solute expresses perfect independence both in being and in 
action, and is appHcable to God as self-existent."^ It may 
mean the absence of all necessary relation, but it does not mean 
the absence of all relation. If God can not voluntarily call a 
finite existence into being, and thus stand in the relation of 
cause. He is certainly under the severest limitation. But surely 
that is not a limit which substitutes choice for necessity. To 
be unable to know God out of all relation — that is, apart from 
his attributes, apart from his created universe, is not felt by us 
to be any privation at all. A God without attributes, and out 
of all relations, is for us no God at all. God as a being of un- 
limited perfection, as infinitely wise and good, as the uncondi- 
tioned cause of all finite being, and, consequently, as voluntarily 
related to nature and humanity, we can and do know ; this is 
the living and true God. The God of a false philosophy is not 
the true God ; the pure abstractions of Hegel and Hamilton 
are negations, and not realities. 

2. We proceed to consider the second fundamental principle 
of Hamilton's philosophy of the conditioned, viz., that " con- 
ditional limitation is the fundamental law of the possibility of 
thought," and that thought necessarily imposes conditions on 
its object. 

"Thought," says Hamilton, "can not transcend conscious- 
ness : consciousness is only possible under the antithesis of a 
subject and an object known only in correlation, and mutually 
limiting each other. """^ Thought necessarily supposes conditions ; 
" to think is simply to condition," that is, to predicate limits ; 
and as the infinite is the unlimited, it can not be thought. 
The very attempt to think the infinite renders it finite ; there- 
fore there can be no infinite in thought, and, consequently, the 
infinite can not be known. 

If by " the infinite in thought " is here meant the infinite 
compassed or contained in thought, we readily grant that the 

^ Calderwood's "Philosophy of the Infinite," p. 179. 
"^ "Discussions," p. 21. 



GREEK rillLO SOPHY. ' 237 

finite can not contain the infinite ; it is a simple truism which no 
one has ever been so fooHsh as to deny. Even Cousin is not 
so unwise as to assert the absolutely comprehensibility of God. 
" In order absolutely to comprehend the Infinite, it is neces- 
sary to have an infinite power of comprehension, and this is 
not granted to us.'" A finite mind can not have " an infinite 
thought." But it by no means follows that, because we can 
not have infinite thought, we can have no clear and definite 
thought of or concerning the Infinite. We have a precise and 
definite idea of infinitude ; we can define the idea ; we can set 
it apart without danger of being confounded with another, and 
we can reason concerning it. There is nothing we more cer- 
tainly and intuitively know than that space is infinite, and yet 
we can not comprehend or grasp within the compass of our 
thought the infinite space. We can not form an i77iage of in- 
finite space, can not traverse it in perception, or represent it 
by any combination of numbers j but we can have the thought 
of it as an idea of Reason, and can argue concerning it with 
precision and accuracy.^ Hamilton has an idea of the Infinite ; 
he defines it j he reasons concerning it ; he says " we must be- 
lieve in the infinity of God." But how can he define the In- 
finite unless he possesses some knowledge, however limited, of 
the infinite Being ? How can he believe in the infinity of God 
if he has no definite idea of infinitude? He can not reason 
about, can not affirm or deny any thing concerning, that of 
which he knows absolutely nothing. 

The grand logical barrier which Hamilton perpetually inter- 
poses to all possible cognition of God as infinite is, that to 
think is to condition — to limit; and as the Infinite is the un- 
conditioned, the unlimited, therefore " the Infinite can not be 

^ "Lectures on History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 104. 

"^ " To form an wiage of any infinitude — be it of time or space [or power] ; 
to go mentally through it by successive steps of representation — is indeed 
impossible ; not less so than to traverse it in our finite perception and ex- 
perience. But to have the thought of it as an idea of the reason, not of the 
phantasy, and assign that thought a constituent place in valid beliefs and 
consistent reasonings, appears to us as not only possible, but inevitable." — 
Martineau's " Essays," p. 205. 



238 CHRISTIANITY AND 

thought.''^ We grant at once that all human thought is limited 
and finite, but, at the same time, we emphatically deny that the 
limitation of our thought imposes any conditions or limits upon 
the object of thought. No such affirmation can be consistently 
made, except on the Hegelian hypothesis that "Thought and 
Being are identical ;" and this is a maxim which Hamilton 
himself repudiates. Our thought does not create, neither does 
it impose conditions upon, any thing. 

There is a lurking sophism in the whole phraseology of 
Hamilton in regard to this subject. He is perpetually talking 
about " thinking a thing " — " thinking the Infinite." Now we 
do not think a thing, but we think ^or concerjiing 2ithm^. We 
do not think a man, neither does our thought impose any con- 
ditions upon the man, so that he must be as our thought con- 
ceives or represents him ; but our thought is of the man, con- 
cerning or about the man, and is only so far true and valid as 
it conforms to the objective reality. And so we do not "think 
the Infinite ;" that is, our thought neither contains nor con- 
ditions the Infinite Being, but our thoughts are about the Infi- 
nite One ; and if we do not think of Him as a being of infinite 
perfection, our thought is neither worthy^ nor just, nor true.^ 

But we are told the law of all thought and of all being is 
determination ; consequently, negation of some quality or some 
potentiality ; whereas the Infinite is " the Oiie and the AlV 
(ro"Ev Koi Ildj^),'^ or, as Dr. Mansel, the disciple and annotator 
of Hamilton, affirms, "the sum of all reality," and "the sum of 
all possible modes of being."^ The Infinite, as thus defined, 
must include in itself all being, and all modes of being, actual 
and possible, not even excepting evil. And this, let it be ob- 
served. Dr. Mansel has the hardihood to affirm. " If the Ab- 
solute and the Infinite is an object of human conception at all, 
this, and none other, is the conception required."* " The In- 
finite Whole," as thus defined, can not be thought, and there- 

^ Calderwood's " Philosophy of the Infinite," pp. 255, 256. 

^ Hamilton's "Lectures on Metaphysics," Appendix, vol. ii. p. 531. 

2 " Limits of Religious Thought," p. 76. * Ibid. 



GEEEK PHILOSOPHY. 239 

fore it is argued the Infinite God can not be known. Such a 
doctrine shocks our moral sense, and we shrink from the thought 
of an Infinite which includes evil. There is certainly a moral 
impropriety, if not a logical impossibility, in such a conception 
of God. 

The fallacy of this reasoning consists in confounding a sup- 
posed Quantitative Infinite with the Qualitative Infinite — the to- 
tality of existence with the infinitely perfect One. " Qualitative 
infinity is a secondary predicate ; that is, the attribute of an at- 
tribute, and is expressed by the adverb infinitely rather than 
the adjective i7ifinite. For instance, it is a strict use of lan- 
guage to say, that space is infinite, but it is an elliptical use of 
language to say, God is infinite. Precision of language would 
require us to say, God is infinitely good, wise, and great ; or 
God is good, and his goodness is infinite. The distinction may 
seem trivial, but it is based upon an important difference be- 
tween the infinity of space and time on the one hand, and the 
infinity .of God on the other. Neither philosophy nor theology 
can aftord to disregard the difference. Quantitative Infinity is 
illimitation by quantity. Qualitative Infinity is illimitation by 
degree. Quantity and degree alike imply finitude, and are cate- 
gories of the finite alone. The danger of arguing from the for- 
mer kind of infinitude to the latter can not be overstated. God 
alone possesses Qualitative Infinit)-, which is strictly synony- 
mous with absolute perfection ; and the neglect of the distinction 
betvveen this and Quantitative Infinity, leads irresistibly to pan- 
theistic and materialistic notions. Spinozism is possible only 
by the elevation of ' infinite extension ' to the dignity of a di- 
vine attribute. Dr. Samuel Clarke's identification of God's im- 
mensity with space has been shown by Martin to ultimate in 
Pantheism. From ratiocinations concerning the incomprehen- 
sibility of infinite space and time, Hamilton and Mansel pass 
at once to conclusions concerning the incomprehensibility of 
God. The inconsequence of all such arguments is absolute ; 
and if philosophy tolerates the transference of spatial or tem- 
poral analogies to the nature of God, she must reconcile her- 



240 CHRISTIANITY AND 

self to the negation of his personaHty and spirituality."^ An 
Infinite Being, quite remote from the notion of quaiitity^ may 
and does exist ; which, on the one hand, does not include finite 
existence, and, on the other hand, does not render the finite 
impossible to thought. Without contradiction they may co- 
exist, and be correlated. 

The thought will have already suggested itself to the mind 
of the reader that for Hamilton to assert that the Infinite, as 
thus defined (the One and the All), is absolutely unknown, is 
certainly the greatest absurdity, for in that case nothing can 
be known. This Infinite must be at least partially known, or 
all human knowledge is reduced to zero. To the all-inclusive 
Infinite every thing affirmative belongs, not only to be, but to- 
be known. To claim it for being, yet deny it to thought, is 
thus impossible. The Infinite, which includes all real exist- 
ence, is certainly possible to cognition. 

The w^hole argument as regards the conditionating nature of 
all thought is condensed into four words by Spinoza — " Omnis 
determinatio est negatio /" all determination is negation. Noth- 
ing can be more arbitrary or more fallacious than this princi- 
ple. It arises from the confusion of two things essentially dif- 
ferent — the limits of a beings and its determinate and distiftguishifig 
characteristics. The limit of a being is its imperfection; the 
determination of a being is its perfection. The less a thing is 
determined, the more it sinks in the scale of being ; the most 
determinate being is the most perfect being. " In this sense 
God is the only being absolutely determined. For there must 
be something indetermined in all finite beings, since they have 
all imperfect powers which tend towards their development 
after an indefinite manner. God alone, the complete Being in 
whom all powers are actualized, escapes by His own perfection 
from all progress, and development, and indetermination."* 

^ North American Review, October, 1864, article, "The Conditioned and 
the Unconditioned," pp. 422, 423. See also Young's " Province of Reason," 
p. 72 ; and Calderwood's " Philosophy of the Infinite," p. 183. 

^ Saisset, "Modern Pantheism," vol. ii. p. 71. 



G REEE* PHIL SOPHY. 241 

All real being must be determined ; only pure Nothing can be 
undetermined. Determination is, however, one thing ; and lim- 
itation is essentially another thing. " Even space and time, 
though cognized solely by negative characteristics, are deter- 
mined in so far as differentiated from the existences they con- 
tain ; but this differentiation involves no limitation of their 
infinity." If all distinction is determination, and if all deter- 
mination is negation, that is (as here used), limitation, then the 
infinite, as distinguished from the finite, loses its own infinity, 
and either becomes identical with the finite, or else vanishes 
into pure nothing. If Hamilton will persist in af&rming that 
all determination is limitation, he has no other alternatives but 
to accept the doctrine of Absolute Nihilism, or of Absolute 
Identity. If the Absolute is the indeterminate — that is, no 
attributes, no consciousness, no relations — it is pure non-being. 
If the Infinite is " the One and All," then there is but one 
substance, one absolute entity. 

Herbert Spencer professes to be carrying out, a step farther, 
the doctrine put into shape by Hamilton and Mansel, viz., " the 
philosophy of the Unconditioned." In other words, he carries 
that doctrine forward to its rigidly logical consequences, and ut- 
ters the last word which Hamilton and Mansel dare not utter 
— "Apprehensible by us there is no God." The Ultimate 
Reality is absolutely unknown : it can not be apprehended by 
the human intellect, and it can not present itself to the intellect 
at all. This Ultimate Reality can not be intelligent, because 
to think is to condition, and the Absolute is the unconditioned ; 
can not be conscious, because all consciousness is of plurality 
and difference, and the Absolute is one ; can not be personal, 
because personality is determination or limitation, and the Infi- 
nite is the illimitable. It is " audacious," " irreverent," " impi- 
ous," to apply any of these predicates to it ; to regard it as 
Mind, or speak of it as Righteous.^ The ultimate goal of the 
philosophy of the Unconditioned is a purely subjective Atheism. 
. And yet of this Primary Existence — inscrutable; and abso- 
* "First Principles," pp. iii, 112, 
16 



242 CHRISTIANI'^Y AND 

lutely unknown — Spencer knows something ; knows as much 
as he pleases to know. He knows that this " ultimate of ul- 
timates is Force,^'^ an ^^Omnipresent Power ^^^"^ is ^'"One"' and 
^^Eternal.^^^ He knows also that it can not be intelligent, 
self-conscious, and a personality.* This is a great deal to 
affirm and deny of an existence "absolutely unknown." May 
we not be permitted to affirm of this hidden and unknown 
something that it is cofiscious Mind, especially as Mind is ad- 
mitted to be the only analogon of Power ; and " the force by 
which we produce change, and which serves to symbolize the 
causes of changes in general, is the final disclosure of analysis."^ 

3. We advance to the review of the third fundamental prin- 
ciple of Hamilton's philosophy of the Unconditioned, viz., that 
the terms infinite and absolute are names foi' a " mere negation 
of thought" — a "mental impotence" to think, or, in other 
words, the absence of all the conditions under which thought is 
possible. 

This principle is based upon a distinction between "posi- 
tive " and " negative " thought, which is made with an air of 
wonderful precision and accuracy in " the Alphabet of Human 
Thought."® "Thinking \s positive Yj]ie^n existence is predicated 
of an object." "Thinking is negative when existence is not at- 
tributed to an object." "Negative thinking," therefore, is not 
the thinking of an object as devoid of this or that particular 
attribute, but as devoid of all attributes, and thus of all exist- 
ence; that is, it is "the negation of all thought" — nothing. 
" When we think a thing, that is done by conceiving it as pos- 
sessed of certain modes of being or qualities, and the sum of 
these qualities constitutes its concept or notion^ "When w^e per- 
form an act of negative thought, this is done by thinking some- 
thing as not existing in this or that determinate mode ; and 
when we think it as existing in no determinate mode, we cease 
to think at all — // becomes a nothing^ Now the Infinite, ac- 

* " First Principles," p. 235. "^ Ibid., p. 99. ^ Ibid., p. 81. 

* Ibid., pp. 108-112. ^ Ibid., p. 235. 

* "Discussions," Appendix I. p. 567. ' "Logic," pp. 54, 55. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHT. 243 

cording to Hamilton, can not be thought in any determinate 
mode ; therefore we do not think it at all, and therefore it is 
for us " a logical Non-entity." 

It is barely conceivable that Hamilton might imagine him- 
self possessed of this singular power of " performing an act of 
negative thought" — that is, of thinking and not thinking at 
once, or of " thinking something " that " becomes nothing ;" 
we are not conscious of any such power. To think without an 
object of thought, or to think of something without any quali- 
ties, or to think " something " which in the act of thought melts 
away into " nothing," is an absurdity and a contradiction. We 
can not think about nothing. All thought must have an ob- 
ject, and every object must have some predicate. Even space 
has some predicates — as receptivity, unity, and infinity. 
Thought can only be realized by thinking something existing, 
and existing in a determinate manner ; and when we cease to 
think something having predicates, we cease to think at all. 
This is emphatically asserted by Hamilton himself.^ " Nega- 
tive thinking" is, therefore, a meaningless phrase, a contradic- 
tion in terms ; it is no thought at all. We are cautioned, how- 
ever, against regarding " the negation of thought " as " a nega- 
tion of all mental ability." It is, we are told, " an attempt to 
think, and a failure in the attempt." An attempt to think 
about what? Surely it must be about some object, and an ob- 
ject which is known by some sign, else there can be no thought. 
Let any one make the attempt to think without something to 
think about, and he will find that both the process and the re- 
sult are blank nothingness. All thought, therefore, as Calder- 
wood has amply shown, is, must he, positive. "Thought is 
nothing else than the comparison of objects known ; and as 
knowledge is always positive, so must our thought be. All 
knowledge implies an object hiown ; and so all thought in- 
volves an object about which we think, and must, therefore, be 
positive — that is, it must embrace within itself the conception 
of certain qualities as belonging to the object."^ 

^ " Logic," p. 55. "^ " Philosophy of the Infinite," p. 272. 



244 CHRISTIANITY AND 

The conclusion of Hamilton's reasoning in regard to " nega- 
tive thinking" is, that we can form, no notion of the Infinite 
Being. We have no positive idea of such a Being. We can 
think of him only by "the thinking away of every characteris- 
tic " which can be conceived, and thtis " ceasing to think at 
all." We can only form a "negative concept," which, we are 
told, "is in fact no concept at all." We can form only a "neg- 
ative notion," which, we are informed, " is only the negation of 
a notion." This is the impenetrable abyss of total gloom and 
emptiness into which the philosophy of the conditions leads us 
at last.' 

Still we have the word injimfe, and we have t/ie notion which 
the word expresses. This, at least, is spared to us by Sir Wil- 
liam Hamilton. He who says we have no such notion asks 
the question how 'we have it .? " Here it may be asked, how 
have we, then, the word infinite ? How have we the notion 
which this word expresses.'' The answer to this question is 
contained in the distinction of positive and negative thought. 

^ Whilst Spencer accepts the general doctrine of Hamilton, that the Ulti- 
mate Reality is inscrutable, he argues earnestly against his assertion that 
the Absolute is a "mere negation of thought." 

" Every one of the arguments by which the relativity of our knowledge is 
demonstrated distinctly postulates the positive existence of something beyond 
the relative. To say we can not know the Absolute is, by implication, to 
affirm there is an Absolute. In the very denial of our power to learn what 
the Absolute is, there lies hidden the assumption that it is ; and the making 
of this assumption proves that the Absolute has been present to the mind, 
not as nothing, but as something. And so with every step in the reasoning 
by which the doctrine is iipheld, the Noumenon, everywhere named as the 
antithesis of the Phenomenon, is throughout thought as actuality. It is 
rigorously impossible to conceive that our knowledge is a knowledge of 
appearances only, without, at the same time, conceiving a Reality Gf which 
these are appearances, for appearances without reality are unthinkable. 

" Truly to represent or realize in thought any one of the propositions of 
which the argument consists, the unconditioned must be represented as posi- 
tive^ and not negative. How, then, can it be a legitimate conclusion from 
the argument that our consciousness of it is negative ? An argument, the 
very construction of which assigns to a certain term a certain meaning, but 
which ends in showing that this term has no meaning, is simply an elaborate 
suicide. Clearly, then, the very demonstration that a definite consciousness 
[comprehension] of the Absolute is impossible, unavoidably presupposes an 
indefinite consciousness of it [an apprehension]." — "First Principles," p. 88. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 245 

We have a positive concept of a thing when we think of it by 
the qualities of which it is the complement. But as the attri- 
bution of qualities is an affirmation, as affirmation and negation 
are relatives, and as relatives are known only in and through 
each other^ we can not, therefore, have a consciousness of the 
affirmation of any quality without having, at the same time, the 
correlative consciousness of its negation. Now the one conscious- 
ness is a positive, the other consciousness is a negative notion ; 
and as all language is the reflex of thought, the positive and 
negative notions are expressed by positive and negative names. 
Thus it is with the Infinite."^ Now let us carefully scrutinize 
the above deliverance,* We are told that " relatives are known 
only in and through each other;" that is, such relatives as 
finite and infinite are known necessarily in the same act of 
thought. The knowledge of one is as necessary as the knowl- 
edge of the other. We can not have a consciousness of the 
one without the correlative consciousness of the other. " For," 
says Hamilton, " a relation is, in truth, a thought, one and in- 
divisible ; and while the thinking a relation necessarily involves 
the thought of its two tet^ms, so it is, with equal necessity, itself 
involved in the thought of either." If, then, we are conscious 
of the two terms of the relation in the same " one and indivisi- 
ble '' mental act — if we can not have " the consciousness of the 
one without the consciousness of the other " — if space and posi- 
tion, time and succession, substance and quality, infinite and 
finite, are given to us in pairs, then ' the knowledge of one is as 
necessary as the knowledge of the other ^ and they must stand or 
fall together. The finite is known no more positively than the 
infinite ; the infinite is known as positively as the finite. The 
one can not be taken and the other left. The infinite, dis- 
charged from all relation to the finite, could never come into 
apprehension ; and the finite, discharged of all relation to the 
infinite, is incognizable too. " There can be no objection to 
call the one 'positive' and the other 'negative,' provided it 
be understood that each is so with regard to the other, and that 
» ' Logic," p. 73. 



246 CHRISTIANITY AND 

the relation is convertible ; the finite, for instance, being the 
negative of the infinite, not less than the infinite of the finite.'" 

To say that the finite is comprehensible in and by itself, and 
the infinite is incomprehensible in and by itself, is to make an 
assertion utterly at variance both with psychology and logic. 
The finite is no more comprehensible 171 itself XhAu the infinite. 
" Relatives are known only in and through each other.'"^ " The 
conception of one term of a relation necessarily implies that of 
the other, it being the very nature of a relative to be thinkable 
only through the conjunct thought of its correlative." AVe 
comprehend nothing more completely than the infinite ; " for 
the idea of illimitation is as clear, precise, and intelligible as 
the idea of limitability, which is its basis. The propositions 
"A is X," "A is not X," are equally comprehensible ; the con- 
ceptions A and X are in both cases positive data of experience, 
while the affirmation and negation consist solely in the copula- 
tive or disjunctive nature of the predication. Consequently, 
if X is comprehensible, so is not— X; if the finite is compre- 
hensible, so is the infinite.'" 

Whilst denying that the infinite can by us be known, Hamil- 
ton tells us he is " far from denying that it is, must, and ought 
to be believed."*^ "We must believe in the infinity of God." 
" Faith — belief — is the organ by which we apprehend what is 
beyond knowledge."^ We heartily assent to the doctrine that 
the Infinite Being is the object of faith, but we earnestly deny 
that the Infinite Being is not an object of knowledge. May 
not knowledge be grounded upon faith, and does not faith im- 
ply knowledge ? Can we not obtain knowledge through faith ? 
Is not the belief in the Infinite Being implied in our knowledge 
of finite existence ? If so, then God as the infinite and perfect, 
God as the unconditioned Cause, is not absolutely "the un- 
known." 

^ Martineau's "Essays," p. 237. ^ Hamilton's "Logic," p. 73. 

^ North American Review, October, 1864, article "Conditioned and the 
Unconditioned," pp. 441, 442. 

* Letter to Calderwood, Appendix, vol. ii. p. 530. 
^ "Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. ii. p. 374. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 247 

A full exposition of Sir William Hamilton's views of Faith 
in its connection with Philosophy would have been deeply in- 
teresting to us, and it would have filled up a gap in the inter- 
pretation of his system. The question naturally presents itself, 
how would he have discriminated between faith and knowledge, 
so as to assign to each its province ? If our notion of the In- 
finite Being rests entirely upon faith, then upon what ultimate 
ground does faith itself rest ? On the authority of Scripture, 
of the Church, or of reason ? The only explicit statement of 
his view which has fallen in our way is a note in his edition of 
Reid/ "We kfiow what rests upon reason; we believe what 
rests upon authority. But reason itself must test at last upon 
authority; for the original data of reason do not rest upon 
reason, but are necessarily accepted by reason on the authority 
of what is beyond itself. These data are, therefore, in rigid 
propriety. Beliefs or Trusts. Thus it is that, in the last resort, 
we must, per force, philosophically admit that belief is the pri- 
mary condition of reason, and not reason the ultimate ground 
of belief." 

Here we have, first, an attempted distinction between faith 
and knowledge. " We know what rests upon reason ;" that is, 
whatever we obtain by deduction or induction, whatever is capa- 
ble of explication and proof, is knowledge. "We believe what 
rests upon authority ;" that is, whatever we obtain by intellec- 
tual intuition or pure apperception, and is incapable of expli- 
cation and of proof, is "a belief or trust.'' These instinctive 
beliefs, which are, as it were, the first principles upon which all 
knowledge rests, are, however, indiscriminately called by Ham- 
ilton "cognitions," "beliefs," "judgments." He declares most 
explicitly "that the principles of our knowledge must them- 
selves be knowledges -""^ and these first principles, which are 
" the primary condition of reason," are elsewhere called " d 
priori cognitions /" also " native, pure, or transcendental kfiowl- 
edge^' in contradistinction to " d posteriori cognitions,'' or that 

^ P. 760 ; also Philosophy of Sir William Hamilton, p. 61. 
2 Ibid., p. 69. 



248 CHRISTIANITY AND 

knowledge which is obtained in the exercise of reason/ All 
this confusion results from an attempt to put asunder what 
God has joined together. As Clemens of Alexandria has said, 
" Neither is faith without knowledge, nor knowledge without 
faith." All faith implies knowledge, and all know^ledge implies 
faith. They are mingled in the one operation of the human 
mind, by which we apprehend first principles or ultimate truths. 
These have their light and dark side, as Hamilton has re- 
marked. They« afford enough light to show that they are and 
must be, and thus communicate knowledge ; they furnish no 
light to show how they are and why they are, and under that 
aspect demand 'the exercise of faith. There must, therefore, 
first be something know7i before there can be diXiy faith. "^ 

And now we seem to have penetrated to the centre of Ham- 
ilton's philosophy, and the vital point may be touched by one 
crucial question, Up07i what ultimate groimd does faith itself rest 1 
Hamilton says, "we believe what rests upon authority.''^ But 
what is that authority? i. It is not the authority of Divine 
Revelation, because beliefs are called " instinctive," " native," 
" innate," '• common," " catholic,"^ all w^hich terms seem to in- 
dicate that this " authority" lies within the sphere of the human 
mind ; at any rate, this faith does not rest on the authority of 
Scripture. Neither is it the authority of Reason. " The orig- 
inal data of reason [the first principles of knowledge] do. not 
rest upon the authority of reason, but 071 the authority of what is 
beyond itself ^ The question thus recurs, what is this ultimate 
ground beyond reason upon which faith rests ? Does it rest 
upon any thing, or nothing ? 

The answer to this question is given in the so-called " Law 
of the Conditioned," which is thus laid down : "All that is coti- 
ceivable i7i thought lies betwee7i two extre77ies, which, as C07itradic- 
tory of each other, ca7i 7iot both be true, but of which, as mutual 
contradictories, one must." For example, we conceive space, but 

' " Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. ii. p. 26. 

^ M'Cosh, " Intuitions," pp. 197, 198 ; Calderwood, " Philosophy of the 
Infinite," p. 24. ^ Philosophy of Sir Wm. Hamilton, pp. 68, 69, 



GREEK FIIJLO SOPHY. 249 

we can not conceive it as absolutely bounded or infinitely un- 
bounded. We can conceive time, but we can not conceive it 
as having an absolute commencement or an infinite non-com- 
mencement. We can conceive of degree, but we can not con- 
ceive it as absolutely limited or as infinitely unlimited. We 
can conceive of existence, but not as an absolute part or an infi- 
nite whole. Therefore, "the Conditioned is that which is 
alone conceivable or cogitable ; the Unconditioned, that which 
is inconceivable or incogitable. The conditioned, or the think- 
able, lies between two extremes or poles ; and each of these 
extremes or poles are unconditioned, each of them inconceiva- 
ble, each of them exclusive or contradictory of the other. Of 
these two repugnant opposites, the one is that of Unconditional 
or Absolute Limitation ; the other that of Unconditional or In- 
finite Illimitation, or, more simply, the Absolute and the Infi- 
nite ; the term absolute expressing that which is finished or 
complete, the term infinite that which can not be terminated or 
concluded."^ 

" The conditioned is the mean between two extremes — two 
inconditionates, exclusive of each other, neither of which can be 
conceived as possible, but of which, on the principle of contradic- 
tion, and excluded middle, one must be admitted as necessary. 
We are thus warned from recognizing the domain of our knowl- 
edge as necessarily co-extensive with the horizon of our faith. 
And by a wonderful revelation, we are thus, in the very con- 
sciousness of our inability to conceive aught above the relative 
and the finite, inspired with a belief in the existence of some- 
thing unconditioned beyond the sphere of all comprehensible 
reality.'"* Here, then, we have found the ultimate ground of 
our faith in the Infinite God. It is built upon a " mental im- 
becility," and buttressed up by " contradictions !'" 

^ ''Lectures on Metaphysics," vol. ii. pp. 368, 374. With Hamilton, the 
Unconditioned is a genus, of which the Infinite and Absolute are species. 

"^ " Discussions on Philosophy," p. 22. 

^ The warmest admirers of Sir William Hamilton hesitate to apply the 
doctrine of the unconditioned to Cause and Fre-e-will. See " Mansel's Pro- 
legom.," Note C, p. 265. 



250 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Such a faith, however, is built upon the clouds, and the whole 
structure of this philosophy is "a castle in the air" — an attempt 
to organize Nescience into Science, and evoke something out 
of nothing. To pretend to believe in that respecting which 
I can form no notion is in reality not to believe at all. The 
nature which compels me to believe in the Infinite must supply 
me some object upon which my belief can take hold. We can 
not believe in contradictions. Our faith must be a rational 
belief — a faith in the ultimate harmony and unity of all truth, 
in the veracity and integrity of human reason as the organ of 
truth.; and, above all, a faith in the veracity of God, who is the 
author and illuminator of our mental constitutiouo " We can 
not suppose that we are created capable of intelligence in order 
to be made victims of delusion — that God is a deceiver, and 
the root of our nature a lie."' We close our review of Hamilton 
by remarking : 

I. " The Law of the Conditioned," as enounced by Hamil- 
ton, is contradictory. It piedicates contradiction of two ex- 
tremes, w'hich are asserted to be equally incomprehensible and 
incognizable. If they are utterly incognizable, how does Ham- 
ilton know that they are contradictory ? The mutual relation 
of two objects is said to be known, but the objects themselves 
are absolutely unknown. But how can we know any relation 
except by an act of comparison, and how can we compare two 
objects sd as to affinn their relation, if the objects are absolutely 
unknown ? " The Infinite is defined as Unconditional Illimi- 
tation ; the Absolute as Conditional Limitation. Yet almost in 
the same breath we are told that each is utterly inconceivable, 
each the mere negation of thought. On the one hand, w^e are 
told they differ ; on the other, we are told they do not differ. 
Now which does Hamilton mean ? If he insist upon the defini- 
tions as yielding a ground of conceivable difference, he must 
abandon the inconceivability ; but if he insist upon the incon- 
ceivability, he must abandon the definition as sheer verbiage, 
devoid of all conceivable meaning. There is no possible es- 
* Philosophy of Sir WilUam Hamilton, p. 21. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 25 1 

cape from this dilemma. Further, two negations can never 
contradict ; for contradiction is the asserting and the denying 
of the same proposition ; two denials can not conflict. If II- 
limitation is negative, Limitation, its contradictory, is positive, 
whether conditional or unconditional. In brief, if the Infinite 
and Absolute are wholly incomprehensible, they are not dis- 
tinguishable ; but if they are distinguishable, they are not 
wholly incomprehensible. If they are indistinguishable, they 
are to us identical ; and identity precludes contradiction. But 
if they are distinguishable, distinction is made by difference, 
which involves positive cognition ; hence one, at least, must be 
conceivable. It follows, therefore, by inexorable logic, that 
either the contradiction or the inconceivability must be aban- 
doned."^ 

2. "The Law of the Conditioned," as a ground of faith in 
the Infinite Being, is utterly void, meaningless, and ineffectual. 
Let us re-state it in Hamilton's own words : " The conditioned 
is the mean between two extremes, two inconditionates exclusive 
of each other, neither of which ca7i be conceived as possible, but of 
which, on the principle of Contradiction and Excluded Middle, 
one must be admitted as necessary. ^^ It is scarcely needful to ex- 
plain to the intelligent reader the above logical principles ; that 
they may, however, be clearly before the mind in this connec- 
tion, we state that the principle of Contradiction is this : " A 
thing can not at the same time be and not be ; A is, A is not, 
are propositions which can not both be true at once." The 
principle of Excluded Middle is this : " A thing either is or is 
not — A either is or is not B ; there is no medium.^^'^ Now, to 
mention the law of Excluded Middle and two contradictories 
with a mean between them, in the same sentence, is really as- 
tounding. " If the two contradictory extremes are equally in- 
cogitable, yet include a cogitable mean, why insist upon the 
necessity of accepting either extreme ? This necessity of ac- 
cepting one of the contradictories is wholly based upon the 

^ North American Review, October, 1864, pp. 407, 408. 

"^ Hamilton's " Logic," pp. 58, 59 ; " Metaphysics," vol. ii. p. 368. 



252 CHMISTIANITY AND 

supposed impossibility of a mean; if a mean exists, that may 
be true, and both contradictories together false. But if a mean 
between two contradictories be both impossible and absurd, 
Hamilton's ' conditioned ' entirely vanishes."^ If both contra- 
dictories are equally unknown and equally unthinkable, we can 
not discover why^ on his principles, we are bound to believe 
either. 

3. The whole of this confusion in thought and expression 
results from the habit of confounding the sensuous imagination 
with the non-sensuous reason, and the consequent co-ordina- 
tion of an imageable conception with an abstract idea. The 
objects of sense and the sensuous imagination may be charac- 
terized as extension, limitation, figure, position, etc.; the objects 
of the non-sensuous reason may be characterized as universal- 
ity, eternity, infinity. I can form an ifnage of an extended and 
figured object, but I can not form an iiiiage of space, time, or 
God ; neither, indeed, can I form an image of Goodness, Jus- 
tice, or Truth. But I can have a clear and precise idea of 
space, and time, and God, as I can of Justice, Goodness, and 
Truth. There are many things which I can most surely know 
that I can not possibly comprehend^ if to comprehend is to form 
a mental image of a thing. There is nothing which I more 
certainly know than that space is infinite, and eternity unbegin- 
ning and endless ; but I can not comprehend the infinity of 
space or the illimitability of eternity. I know that God is, that 
he is a being of infinite perfection, but I can not throw my 
thoughts around and comprehend the infinity of God. 

(iv.) We come, lastly, to consider the position of the Dogmatic 
Theologians? In their zeal to demonstrate the necessity of Di- 
vine Revelation, and to vindicate for it the honor of supplying 
to us all our knowledge of God, they assail every fundamental 
principle of reason, often by the very weapons which are sup- 

^ North British Review, October, 1864, pp. 415, 416. 

' Ellis, Leland, Locke, and Horsley, whose writings are extensively 
quoted in Watson's " Institutes of Theology" (reprinted by Carlton & Lan- 
ahan, New York). 



GREEK FJIILOSOPHT. 253 

plied by an Atheistical philosophy. As a succinct presentation 
of the views of this school, we select the ^^Theological Institutes'^ 
of R. Watson. 

I St. The invalidity of " //^^ /n>2^?)>/^ <?/* r^^z/i-ia^/Z^y " is asserted 
by this author. "We allow that the argument which proves 
that the effects with which we are surrounded have been caused^ 
and thus leads us up through a chain of subordinate causes to 
one First Cause, has a simplicity, an obviousness, and a force 
which, when we are previously furnished with the idea of God, 
makes it, at first sight, difficult to conceive that men, under any 
degree of cultivation, should be inadequate to it ; yet if ever 
the human mind commenced such an inquiry at all, it is highly 
probable that it would rest in the notion of an eternal succession 
of causes and effects, rather than acquire the ideas of creation, in 
the proper sense, and of a Supreme Creator."^ "We feel that 
our reason rests with full satisfaction in the doctrine that all 
things are created by one eternal and self-existent Being ; but 
the Greek philosophers held that matter was eternally co-exist- 
ent with God. This was the opinion of Plato, who has been 
called the Moses of philosophy."^ 

For a defense of " the principle of causality " we must refer 
the reader to our remarks on the philosophy of Comte. We 
shall now only remark on one or two peculiarities in the above 
statement which betray an utter misapprehension of the nature 
of the argument. We need scarcely direct attention to the un- 
fortunate and, indeed, absurd phrase, " an eternal succession of 
causes and effects." An "eternal succession" is a contradictio 
in adjecto, and as such inconceivable and unthinkable. No 
human mind can " rest " in any such thing, because an eternal 
succession is no rest at all. All "succession" is finite and 
temporal, capable of numeration, and therefore can not be eter- 
nal.' Again, in attaining the conception of a First Cause the 
human mind does not pass up " through a chain of subordinate 
causes," either definite or indefinite, "to one First Cause." 

• ^ Watson's " Institutes of Theology," vol. i, p. 273. 

"^ Id, ib., vol. i. p. 21. ^ See ante, pp. 181, 182, ch. v. 



254 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



Let us re -state the principle of causality as a universal and 
necessary law of thought. ^^ All phenomena present themselves to 
us as the expression ^ power, and refer us to a causal ground 
whence they issue." That "power" is intuitively and spontane- 
ously apprehended by the human mind as Supreme and Ulti- 
mate — "the causal ground" is a personal God. All the phe- 
nomena of nature present themselves to us as "effects," and we 
know nothing of " subordinate causes" except as modes of the 
Divine Efficiency.^ The principle of causality compels us to 
think causation behind nature, and under causation to think of 
Volition. " Other forces we have no sort of ground for believ- 
ing ; or, except by artifices of abstraction, even power of con- 
ceiving. The dynamic idea is either this or nothing ; and the 
logical alternative assuredly is, that nature is either a mere 
Time-march of phenomena or an expression of Mind."* The 
true doctrine of philosophy, of science, and of revelation is not 
simply that God did create " in the beginning," but that he 
still creates. All the operations of Nature are the operations 
of the Divine Mind. " Thou takest away their breath, they 
die, and return to their dust. Thou sendest forth thy spirit, 
they are created ; and thou renewest the face of the earth."^ 

The assertion that Plato taught " the eternity of matter," 
and that consequently he did not arrive at the idea of a Su- 
preme and Ultimate Cause, is incapable of proof. The term 
vA^;— matter does not occur in the writings of Plato, or, indeed, 
of any of his predecessors, and is peculiarly Aristotelian. The 
ground of the world of sense is called by Plato " the recepta- 
cle " (vTTo^oxti), " the nurse " (ndiivr]) of all that is produced, 
and was apparently identified, in his mind, with pure space — a 
logical rather than a physical entity — the mere negative con- 
dition and medium of Divine manifestation. He never regards 
it as a " cause," or ascribes to it any efficiency. We grant that 

' The modern doctrine of the Correlation and Homogenity of all Forces 
clearly proves that they are not many, but one — " a dynamic self-identity 
masked by transmigration." — Martineau's " Essays," pp. 134-144. 

"^ Martineau's "Essays," pp. 140, 141. ^ Psalm civ. 



GREEK rniLOSOPHY. 255 

he places this very indefinite something {ottolovovv ti) out of the 
sphere of temporal origination ; but it must be borne in mind 
that he speaks of "creation in eternity" as well as of "creation 
in timej" and of time itself, though created, as "an eternal 
image of the generating Father."^ This one thing, at any rate, 
can not be denied, that Plato recognizes creation in its fullest 
sense as the act of God. 

The admission that something has always existed besides the 
Deity, as a mere logical condition of the exercise of divine pow- 
er {e.g., space), would not invalidate the argument for the exist- 
ence of God. The proof of the Divine Existence, as Chalmers 
has shown, does not rest on the existence of matter, but on the 
orderly arrangement of matter ; and the grand question of The- 
ism is not whether the matter of the world, but whether the pres- 
ent order of the world had a commencement.^ 

2d. Doubt is cast by our author upon the validity of ''^ the 
principle of the Unconditioned or the Infinite.^'' " Supposing it 
were conceded that some faint glimmering of this great truth 
[the existence of a First Cause] might, by induction, have been 
discovered by contemplative minds> by what means could they 
have demonstrated to themselves that he is eternal, self-existent, 
immortal, and independent ?"^ " Between things visible and in- 
visible, time and eternity, beings finite and beings infinite, ob- 
jects of sense and objects of faith, the connection is not percepti- 
ble to human observation. Though we push our researches, 
therefore, to the extreme point whither the light of nature can 
carry us, they will in the end be abruptly terminated, and we 
must stop short at an immeasurable distance between the 
creature and the Creator."* 

To this assertion that the connection of things visible and 
things invisible, finite and infinite, objects of sense and objects 
of faith, is utterly imperceptible to human thought, we might re- 

' Plato, *' Timseus," § xiv. 

"^ Chalmers's " Natural Theology," bk. i. ch. v. ; also Mahan's " Natural 
Theology," pp. 21-23. 

^ Watson's " Institutes of Theol.," vol. i. p. 274. * Id., ib., vol. i. p. 273. 



256 CHBISTIANITY AND 

ply by quoting the words of that Sacred Book whose supreme 
authority our author is seeking, by this argument, to establish. 
" The invisible things of God, even his eternal power and god- 
head, from the creation, are clearly seen, being understood by the 
things which are madey We may also point to the fact that in 
every age and in every land the human mind has spontaneously 
and instinctively recognized the existence of an invisible Power 
and Presence pervading nature and controlling the destinies of 
man, and that religious worship — prayer, and praise, and sacri- 
fice — offered to that unseen yet omnipresent Power is an uni- 
versal fact of human nature. The recognition of an immediate 
and a ?iecessary " connection " between the visible and the in- 
visible, the objects of sense and the objects of faith, is one of 
the most obvious facts of consciousness — of universal con- 
sciousness as revealed in history, and of individual conscious- 
ness as developed in every rational mind. 

That this connection is " not perceptible to human observa- 
tion," if by this our author means " not perceptible to sense," 
we readily admit. No one ever asserted it was perceptible to 
human observation. We say that this connection is percepti- 
ble to human reason, and is revealed in every attempt to think 
about, and seek an explanation of, the phenomenal world. 
The Phenomenal and the Real, Genesis and Being, Space and 
Extension, Succession and Duration, Time and Eternity, the 
Finite and the Infinite, are correlatives which are given in one 
and the same indivisible act of thought. " The conception of 
one term of a relation necessarily implies that of the other ; it 
being the very nature of a correlative to be thinkable only 
through the conjunct thought of its correlative ; for a relation 
is, in truth, a thought one and indivisible; and whilst the 
thinking of one relation necessarily involves the thought of its 
two terms, so it is, with equal necessity, itself involved in the 
thought of either."^ Finite, dependent, contingent, temporal 
existence, therefore, necessarily supposes infinite, self-existent, 
independent, eternal Being ; the Conditioned and Relative im- 
^ Hamilton's " Metaphysics," vol. ii. pp. 536, 537. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 257 

plies the Unconditioned and Absolute — one is known only in 
and through the other. But inasmuch as the unconditioned is 
cognized solely d priori, and the conditioned solely d posteriori, 
the recognition by the human mind of their necessary correla- 
tion becomes the bridge whereby the chasm between the sub- 
jective and the objective may be spanned, and whereby Thought 
may be brought face to face with Existence. 

The reverence which, from boyhood, we have entertained 
for the distinguished author of the "Institutes" restrains us 
from speaking in adequate terms of reprobation of the state- 
ment that "the First Cause^^ may be known, and yet not con- 
ceived "as eternal, self-existent, immortal, and independent." 
Surely that which is the ground and reason of all existence 
must have the ground and reason of its own existence in itself. 
That which is, first in the order of existence, and in the logical 
order of thought, can have nothing prior to itself. If the sup- 
posed First Cause is not necessarily self-existent and independ- 
ent, it is not the, first; if it has a dependent existence, there 
must be a prior being on which it depends. If the First Cause 
is not eternal, then prior to this Ultimate Cause there was 
nothingness and vacuity, and pure nothing, by its own act, be- 
came something. But ^^Ex nihilo ?tihil" is a universal law of 
thought. To ask the question whether the First Cause be self- 
existent and eternal, is, in effect, to ask the question " who 
made God?" and this is not the question of an adult theo- 
logian, but of a little child. Surely Mr. Watson must have 
penned the above passage without any reflection on its real 
import.^ 

^ In an article on " the Impending Revolution in Anglo-Saxon Theology" 
(Methodist Quarterly Review, July, 1863), Dr. Warren seems to take it for 
granted that the " aiteological " and "teleological" arguments for the exist- 
ence of God are utterly invalidated by the Dynamical theory of matter. 
*' Once admit that real power can and does reside in matter, and all these 
reasonings fail. If inherent forces of matter are competent to the produc- 
tion of all the innumerable miracles ^ movement in the natural world, what 
is there in the natural world which they can not produce. If all the exer- 
tions of power in the universe can be accounted for without resort to some- 
thing back of, and superior to, nature, what is there which can force the mind 

17 



258 CHRISTIANITY AXD 

3d. Th^YdXidiiy oi ^^ the principle ofunity^^ is also discredited 
by Watson. " If, however, it were conceded that some gb'm- 
merings of this great truth, the existence of a First Cause, 

to such a resort ?" (p. 463). " Having granted that /^7c/<?r, or self -activity, is 
a natural attribute of all matter, what right have we to deny it intelligence ,^" 
(p. 465). '■^ Self -moving matter mtist have thought and design " (p. 469). 

It is not our intention to offer an extended criticism of the above posi- 
tions in this note. We shall discuss "the Dynamical theory" more fully in 
a subsequent work. If the theory apparently accepted by Dr. Warren be 
true, that ^^ the idtimate atoms of matter are as uniformly efficient as minds, 
and that we have the same ground to regard the force exerted by the one 
imtate and natural as that exerted by the other" (p. 464), then we grant that 
the conclusions of Dr. Warren, as above stated, are unavoidable. We pro- 
ceed one step farther, and boldly assert that the existence of God is, on this 
hypothesis, incapable of proof, and the only logical position Dr. Warren can 
occupy is that of spiritualistic Pantheism. 

Dr. Warren asserts that " the Dynamical theory of matter" is now gene- 
rally accepted by " Anglo-Saxon naturalists.^^ " One can scarcely open a sci- 
entific treatise without observing the altered stand-point " (p. 160). We con- 
fess that we are disappointed with Dr. Warren's treatment of this simple ques- 
tion of fact. On so fundamental an issue, the Doctor ought to have given 
the name of at least one " naturalist " who asserts that " the ultimate atoms 
of matter are as uniformly efficient as minds." Leibnitz, Morrell, Ulrici, 
Ilickok, the authorities quoted by him, are metaphysicians and idealists* of 
the extremest school. At present we shall, therefore, content ourselves with 
a general denial of this wholesale statement of Dr. Warren ; and we shall 
sustain that denial by a selection from the many authorities we shall here- 
after present. " No particle of matter possesses within itself the power of 
changing its existing state of motion or of rest. Matter has no spontaneous 
power either of rest or motion, but is equally susceptible to each as it may 
be acted on by external causes" (Silliman's " Princij^les of Physics," p. 13). 
The above proposition is " a truth on which the whole science of mechanical 
philosophy ultimately depends " (Encyclopaedia Britannica, art. " Dynamics," 
vol. viii. p. 326). "A material substance existing alone in the universe could 
not produce any effects. There is not, so far as zoe knozu, a self-acting 77iate- 
rial substance in the universe'''' (M'Cosh, "Divine Government, Physical and 
Moral," p. 78). " Perhaps the only true indication of matter is inertia^ 
"The cause of gravitation is not 7'esident 'vcv the particles of matter merely," 
but also "z>z all space'''' (Dr. Faraday on " Conservation of Force," in "Cor- 
relation and Conservation of Force," p. 368). He also quotes Avith appro- 
bation the words of Newton, " That gravity should be innate, inherent, and 
essential to matter, is so great an absurdity, that I believe no man who has 
in philosophic matters a competent faculty of thinking can ever fall into it" 
(p. 368). "The 'force of gravity' is^an improper expression" (p. 340). 
" Forces are transformable, indestructible, and, /;/ contradistinction from 
matter, imponderable" (p. 346). "The first cause of things is Deity" (Dr. 
Mayer, in "Correlation and Conservation of Force," p. 341). "Although 



GREEK PIIILOSOniY. 259 

might, by induction, have been discovered, by what means 
could they have demonstrated to themselves that the great col- 
lection of bodies which we call the world had but one Creator,"^ 
We might answer directly, and at once, that the oneness or 
unity of God is necessarily contained in " the very notion of a 
First Cause" — 2. first cause is not many causes, but one. By 
a First Cause we do not, however, understand the first of a nu- 
merical series, but an dpx>/ — a principle, itself unbeginning, 
which is the source of all beginning. Our categorical answer, 
therefore, must be that the unity of God is a sublime deliver- 
ance of reason — God is one God. It is a first principle of 
reason that all differentiation and plurality supposes an incom- 
posite unity, all diversity implies an indivisible identity. The 
sensuous perception of a plurality of parts supposes the rational 
idea of an absolute unity, which has no parts, as its necessary 
correlative. For example, extension is a congeries of indefini- 
tesimal parts ; the continuity of matter, as empirically known 
by us, is never absolute. Space is absolutely continuous, in- 
capable of division into integral parts, illimitable, and, as ra- 
tionally known by us, an absolute unity. The cognition of 
limited extension, which is the subject of quantitative measure- 
ment, involves the conception of unlimited space, which is the 
negation of all plurality and complexity of parts. And so the 
cognition of a phenomenal universe in which we see only differ- 

the word cause may be used in a secondary and subordinate sense, as mean- 
ing antecedent forces, yet in an abstract sense it is totally inapplicable ; we 
can not predicate of any physical agent that it is abstractedly the cause of 
another" (p. 15), "Causation is the 7c/z7/," "creation is the act, of God" 
(Grove on "Correlation of Physical Forces," p. 199), "Between gravity 
and motion it is impossible to establish the equation required for a rightly- 
conceived causal relation" ("Correlation and Conservation of Force," p. 
253). See also Herschel's " Outlines of Astronomy," p. 234. 

It certainly must have required a wonderful effort of imagination on the 
part of Dr. Warren to transform " weight " and " density," mere passive 
affections of matter, into self- activity, intelligence, thought, and design. 
Weight or density are merely relative terms. Supposing one particle or 
mass of matter to exist alone, and there can be no attractive or gravitating 
force. There must be a cause of gravity which is distinct from matter. 

^ "Institutes of Theology," vol. i. p. 275. 



2 6o CHRIS TIA NIT Y A ND 

ence, plurality, and change, implies the existence of a Being 
who is absolutely unchangeable, identical, and one. 

This law of thought lies at the basis of that universal desire 
of unity, and that universal effort to reduce all our knowledge 
to unity, which has revealed itself in the history of philosophy, 
and also of inductive science. " Reason, intellect, vovq, con- 
catenating thoughts and objects into system, and tending up- 
ward from particular facts to general laws, from general laws 
to universal principles, is never satisfied in its ascent till it 
comprehends all laws in a single formula, and consummates all 
conditional knowledge in the unity of unconditional existence." 
" The history of philosophy is only the history of this tendency, 
and philosophers have borne ample testimony to its reality. 
' The mind,' says Anaxagoras, ' only knows when it subdues its 
objects, when it reduces the many to the one.' ^ The end of 
philosophy,' says Plato, 'is the intuition of unity.' 'All knowl- 
edge,' say the Platonists, ' is the gathering up into one, and the 
indivisible apprehension of this unity by the knowing mind.' "^ 

This law has been the guiding principle of the Inductive 
Sciences, and has led to some of its most important discoveries. 
The unity which has been attained in physical science is not, 
however, the absolute unity of a material substratum, but a 
unity of Will and of Thought. The late discovery of the mon- 
ogenesis, reciprocal convertibihty, and indestructibility of all 
Forces in nature, leads us upward towards the recognition of 
one Omnipresent and Omnipotent Will, which, like a mighty 
tide, sweeps through the universe and effects all its changes. 
The universal prevalence of the same physical laws and numer- 
ical relations throughout all space, and of the same archetypal 
forms and teleology of organs throughout all past time, reveals 
to us a Unity of Thought which grasps the entire details of the 
universe in one comprehensive plan.^ The positive d priori 

^ Hamilton's " Metaphysics," vol. i. pp. 68, 69. 

^ We refer with pleasure to the articles of Dr. Winchell, in the North- 
western Christian Advocate, in which the a posteriori proof of *' the Unity 
of God" is forcibly exhibited, and take occasion to express the hope they 
will soon be presented to the public in a more permanent form. 



GREEK PHILOSOFIIY. 261 

intuitions of reason and the d posteriori inductions of science 
equally attest that God is 07ie. 

4th. By denying that man has any intuitive cognitions of 
right and wrong, or any native and original feeling of obliga- 
tion, Mr. Watson invalidates "the moral argument" for the ex- 
istence of a Righteous God. 

" As far as man's reason has applied itself to the discovery 
of truth or duty it has generally gone astray."^ " Questions of 
morals do not, for the most part, lie level to the minds of the 
populace.'"* " Their conclusions have no authority^ and place 
them under no obligation J^"^ And, indeed, man without a rev- 
elation " is without moral co7ztrol, without priiiciples of justice^ 
except such as may be slowly elaborated from those relations 
which concern the grosser interests of life, without conscie?ice^ 
without hope or fear in another life."* 

Now we shall not occupy our space in the elaboration of the 
proposition that the universal consciousness of our race, as re- 
vealed in human history, languages, legislations, and sentiments, 
bears testimony to the fact that the ideas of right, duty, and re- 
sponsibility are native to the human mindj we shall simply 
make our appeal to those Sacred Writings whose verdict must 
be final with all theologians. That the fundamental principles 
of the moral law do exist, subjectively, in all human minds is 
distinctly affirmed by Paul, in a passage which deserves to be 
regarded as the chief corner-stone of moral science. " The 
Gentiles (tOi/j?, heathen), which have not the written law, do by 
the guidance of nature (reason or conscience) the works en- 
joined by the revealed law; these, having no written law, are. 
a law unto themselves ; who show plainly the works of the law 
written on their hearts, their conscience bearing witness, and 
also their reasonings one with another, when they accuse, or 
else excuse, each other. "^ To deny this is to relegate the hea- 
then from all responsibility. For Mr. Watson admits " that the 

^ " Institutes of Theology," vol. ii. p. 470. ^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 15. 

^ Ibid., vol. i. p. 228. ^ Ibid., vol. ii. p. 271. 

^ Romans, ch. ii. ver. i4-i'3. 



262 CHRISTIANITY AND 

will of a superior is not in justice binding unless it be in some 
mode sufficiently declared." Now in the righteous adjudg- 
ments of revelation the heathen are " without excuse." The will 
of God must, therefore, be " sufficiently declared " to constitute 
them accountable. Who will presume to say that the shadowy, 
uncertain, variable, easily and unavoidably corrupted medium 
of tradition running through forty muddy centuries is a " suffi- 
cient declaration of the will of God ?" The law is " written on 
the heart " of every man, or all men are not accountable. 

Now this " law written within the heart " immediately and 
naturally suggests the idea of a Lawgiver who is over us. 
This felt presence of Conscience, approving or condemning our 
conduct, suggests, as with the speed of the lightning-flash, the 
notion of a Judge who will finally call us to account. This 
" accusing or excusing of each other," this recognition of good 
or ill desert, points us to, and constrains us to recognize, a fu- 
ture Retribution ; so that some hope or fear of another life has 
been in all ages a universal phenomenon of humanity. 

It is affirmed, however, that whilst this capacity to know 
God may have been an original endowment of human nature, 
yet, in consequence of the fall, " the understanding and reason 
are weakened by the deterioration of his whole intellectual na- 
ture."' "Without some degree of education, man is wholly the 
creature of appetite. Labor, feasting, and sleeping divide his 
time, and wholly occupy his thoughts."^ 

We reverently and believingly accept the teaching of Scrip- 
ture as to the depravity of man. We acknowledge that " the 
understanding is darkened " by sin. At the same time, we 
earnestly maintain that the Scriptures do not teach that the 
fundamental laws of mind, the first principles of reason, are 
utterly traversed and obliterated by sin, so that man is not able 
to recognize the existence of God, and feel his obligation to 
Him. "Though they (the heathen) hiew God (hon yyoyrsg), 
they did not glorify him as God, neither were thankful, but be- 
came vain in their imagination, and their foolish hearts were 
* "Institutes of Theology," vol. i. p. 15. ' Ibid., vol. i. p. 271. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 263 

darkened. They changed the truth of God into a He, and wor- 
shipped and served the creature more than the Creator." "And 
as they did not approve of holding God with ackno'wledgme7it, God 
dehvered" them over to an unapproving mind, to work those 
things whicli are not suitable." After drawing a fearful picture 
of the darkness and depravity of the heathen, the Apostle adds, 
" Who, though they know the law of God, that they who practise 
such things are worthy of death, not only do them, but even are . 
well pleased with those who practise them."^ The obvious and 
direct teaching of this passage is that the heathen, in the midst 
of their depravity and idolatry, are not utterly ignorant of God ; 
" they knoiu God " — " they know the law of God " — "they wor- 
ship Him," though they worship the creature fnore than Him. 
They know God, and are unwilling to "acknowledge God." 
" They know the righteousness of God," and are " haters of 
God " on account of his purity ; and their worshipping of idols 
does not proceed from ignorance of God, from an intellectual 
inability to know God, but from " corruption of heart," and a 
voluntary choice of, and a " pleasure " in, the sinful practices 
accompanying idol worship. Therefore, argues the Apostle, 
they are " without excuse." The whole drift and aim of the 
argument of Paul is, not to show that the heathen were, by 
their depravity, in capacitated to know God, but that because 
they knew God and knew his righteous law, therefore their de- 
pravity and licentiousness was " inexcusable." 

We conclude our review of opposing schools by the re-affir- 
mation of our position, that God is cognizable by human reason. 
The human mind, under the guidance of necessary laws of 
thought, is able, from the facts of the universe, to affirm the ex- 
istence of God, and to attain some valid knowledge of his char- 
acter and will. Every attempt to solve the great problem of 
existence, to offer an explanation of the phenomenal world, or 
to explore the fundamental idea of reason, when fairly and 
fully conducted, has resulted in the recognition of a Supreme 
^ Romans, ch. i. ver. 23-32. 



264 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Intclligeficc, a personal Mmd and Wili, as the ground, and rea- 
son, and cause of all existence. A survey of the history of 
Greek Philosophy will abundantly sustain this position, and to 
this we shall, in subsequent chapters, invite the reader's at- 
tention. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 265 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE PHILOSOPHERS OF ATHENS. 
PRE-SOCRATIC SCHOOL. 

SENSATIONAL : THALES — ANAXIMENES — HERACLITUS — ANAXIMANDER — 
LEUCIPPU3 — DEMOCRITUS. 

" Then certain philosophers of the Epicureans and of the Stoics encoun- 
tered Paul." — Acts xvii. 18. 

" Plato affirms that this is the most just cause of the creation of the world, 
that works which are good should be wrought by the God who is good ; 
whether he had read these things in the Bible, or whether by his penetrating 
genius he beheld the invisible things of God as understood by the things which 
are made." — St. Augustine, " De Civ. Dei," lib. xi. ch. 21. 

OF all the monuments of the greatness of Athens which 
have survived the changes and the wastes of time, the 
most perfect and the most enduring is her philosophy. The 
Propylsea, the Parthenon, and the Erechtheum, those peerless 
gems of Grecian architecture, are now in ruins. The magnifi- 
cent sculpture of Phidias, which adorned the pediment, and 
outer cornice, and inner frieze of these temples, and the unri- 
valled statuary of gods and heroes which crowded the platform 
of the Acropolis, making it an earthly Olympus, are now no 
more, save a few broken fragments which have been carried to 
other lands, and, in their exile, tell the mournful story of the 
departed grandeur of their ancient home. The brazen statue 
of Minerva, cast from the spoils of Maratlion, which rose in 
giant grandeur above the buildings of the Acropolis, and the 
flashing of whose helmet plumes was seen by the mariner as 
soon as he had rounded the Sunian promontory ; and that other 
brazen Pallas, called, by pre-eminence, " the Beautiful ;" and 
the enormous Colossus of ivory and of gold, "the Immortal 
Maid " — the protecting goddess of the Parthenon — these have 



2 66 CHR IS TIA NIT Y A ND 

perished. But whilst the fingers of time have crumbled the 
Pentelic marble, and the glorious statuary has been broken to 
pieces by vandal hands, and the gold and brass have been 
melted in the crucibles of needy monarchs and converted into 
vulgar money, the philosophic thought of Athens, which culmi- 
nated in the dialectic of Plato, still survives. Not one of all 
the vessels, freighted with immortal thought, which Plato 
launched upon the stream of time, has foundered. And after 
the vast critical movement of European thought during the 
past two centuries, in w^hich all philosophic systems have been 
subjected to the severest scrutiny, the method of Plato still pre- 
serves, if not its exclusive authority unquestioned, at least its 
intellectual pre-eminence unshaken. "Platonism is immortal, 
because its principles are immortal in the human intellect and 
heart.'" 

Philosophy is, then, the world-enduring monument of the 
greatness and the glory of Athens. Whilst Greece will be for- 
ever memorable as " the country of wisdom and of wise men," 
Athens will always be pre-eminently memorable as the Univer- 
sity of Greece. This was the home of Socrates, and Plato, and 
Aristotle — the three imperial names which, for twenty centuries, 
reigned supreme in the world of philosophic thought. Here 
schools of philosophy were founded to which students were at- 
tracted from every part of the civilized world, and by which an 
impulse and a direction was given to human thought in every 
land and in every age. Standing on the Acropolis at Athens, 
and looking over the city and the open country, the Apostle 
would see these places which are inseparably associated with the 
names of the men who have always been recognized as the great 
teachers of the pagan world, and who have also exerted a pow- 
erful influence upon Christian minds of every age. " In opposite 
directions he would see the suburbs where Plato and Aristotle, 
the two pupils of Socrates, held their illustrious schools. The 
streamless bed of the Ilissus passes between the Acropolis and 
Hymettus in a south-westerly direction, until it vanishes in the 
^ Butler's " Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 9. 



GREEK rniLOSOFHY. 267 

low ground which separates the city from the Piraeus." Look- 
ing towards the upper part of this channel, Paul would see 
gardens of plane-trees and thickets of angus-castus, "with other 
torrent-loving shrubs of Greece." Near the base of Lycabettus 
was a sacred inclosure which Pericles had ornamented with 
fountains. Here stood a statue of Apollo Lycius, which gave 
the name to the Lyceum. Here, among the plane-trees, Aris- 
totle walked^ and, as he walked, taught his disciples. Hence 
the name Peripatetics (the Walkers), which has always desig- 
nated the disciples of the Stagirite philosopher. 

On the opposite side of the city, the most beautiful of the 
Athenian suburbs, we have the scene of Plato's teaching. Be- 
yond the outer Ceramicus, which was crowded with the sepul- 
chres of those Athenians who had fallen in battle, and were 
buried at the public expense, the eye of Paul would rest on the 
favored stream of the Cephisus, flowing towards the west. On 
the banks of this stream the Academy was situated. A wall, 
built at great expense by Hipparchus, surrounded it, and Cimon 
planted long avenues of trees and erected fountains. Beneath 
the plane-trees which shaded the numerous walks there assem- 
bled the m^aster-spirits of the age. This was the favorite resort 
of poets and philosophers. Plere the divine spirit of Plato 
poured forth its sublimest speculations in streams of matchless 
eloquence ; and here he founded a school which was destined 
to exert a powerful and perennial influence on human minds 
and hearts in all coming time. 

Looking down from the Acropolis upon the Agora, Paul 
would distinguish a cloister or colonnade. This is the Stoa 
Pcecile, or " Painted Porch," so called because its walls were 
decorated with fresco paintings of the legendary wars of Greece, 
and the more glorious struggle at Marathon. It was here that 
Zeno first opened that celebrated school which thence received 
the name of Stoic. The site of the gardeji where Epicurus 
taught is noV unknown. It was no doubt within the city walls, 
and not far distant from the Agora. It was well known in the 
time of Cicero, who visited Athens as a student little more than 



268 CHBISTIANITY AND 

a century before the Apostle. It could not have been forgotten 
in the time of Paul. In this " tranquil garden," in the society 
of his friends, Epicurus passed a life of speculation and of pleas- 
ure. His disciples were called, after him, the Epicureans.^ 

Here, then, in Athens the Apostle was brought into imme- 
diate contact with all the phases of philosophic thought which 
had appeared in the ancient world. "Amongst those who 
sauntered beneath the cool shadows of the plane-trees in the 
Agora, and gathered in knots under the porticoes, eagerly dis- 
cussing the questions of the day, were the philosophers, in the 
garb of their several sects, ready for any new question on which 
they might exercise their subtlety or display their rhetoric." 
If there were any in that motley group who cherished the prin- 
ciples and retained the spirit of the true Platonic school, we 
may presume they felt an inward intellectual sympathy with the 
doctrine enounced by Paul. With Plato, " philosophy was only 
another name for religion : philosophy is the love of perfect 
Wisdom ; perfect Wisdom and perfect Goodness are identical : 
the perfect Good is God himself; philosophy is the love of 
God."^ He confessed the need of divine assistance to attain 
" the good," and of divine interposition to deliver men from 
moral ruin.^ Like Socrates, he longed for a supernatural — a 
divine light to guide him, and he acknowledged his need there- 
of continually." He was one of those who, in heathen lands, 
waited for " the desire of nations ;" and, had he lived in Chris- 
tian times, no doubt his "spirit of faith" would have joyfully 
" embraced the Saviour in all the completeness of his revelation 
and advent."^ And in so far as the spirit of Plato survived 
among his disciples, we may be sure they were not among the 

* See Conybeare and Howson's " Life and Epistles of St. Paul," vol. i. ; 
Lewes's "Biographical History of Philosophy ;" and Encyclopaedia Britan- 
nica, article, "Athens," from whence our materials for the description of 
these "places" are mainly derived. 

^ Butler's "Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 6i. 

^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. vi. vii. "* Butler's " Lectures," vol. i. p. 362. 

^ Wheedon on " The Will," p. 352 ; also Butler's " Lectures," vol. ii. p. 
252. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 269 

number who " mocked," and ridiculed, and opposed the " new 
doctrine " proclaimed by Paul. It was " the philosophers of 
the Epicureans and of the Stoics who encountered Paul." The 
leading tenets of both these sects were diametrically opposed 
to the doctrines of Christianity. The ruling spirit of each was 
alien from the spirit of Christ. The haughty /r/^^ of the Stoic, 
the Epicurean abandonment to pleasure., placed them in direct 
antagonism to him who proclaimed the crucified and risen 
Christ to be ^^the wisdom of God." 

If, however, we would justly appreciate the relation of pagan 
philosophy to Christian truth, we must note that, when Paul ar- 
rived in Athens, the age of Athenian glory had passed away. 
Not only had her national greatness waned, and her national 
spirit degenerated, but her •intellectual power exhibited unmis- 
takable signs of exhaustion, and weakness, and decay. If phi- 
losophy had borne any fruit, of course that fruit remained. If, 
in the palmy days of Athenian greatness, any field of human 
inquiry had been successfully explored; if human reason had 
achieved any conquests ; if any thing true and good had been 
obtained, that must endure as an heir-loom for all coming time ; 
and if those centuries of agonizing wrestlings with nature, and 
of ceaseless questioning of the human heart, had yielded no 
results, then, at least, the lesson of their failure and defeat re- 
mained for the instruction of future generations. Either the 
problems they sought to solve were proved to be insoluble, or 
their methods of solution were found to be inadequate; for 
here the mightiest minds had grappled with the great problems 
of being and of destiny. Here vigorous intellects had strug- 
gled to pierce the darkness which hangs alike over the begin- 
ning and the end of human existence. Here profoundly ear- 
nest men had questioned nature, reason, antiquity, oracles, in the 
hope they might karn something of that invisible world of real 
being which they instinctively felt must lie beneath the world 
of fleeting forms and ever-changing appearances. Here phi- 
losophy had directed her course towards every point in the 
compass of thought, and touched every accessible point. The 



2 70 CHRISTIANITY AND 

sun of human reason had reached its zenith, and illuminated 
every field that lay within the reach of human ken. And this 
sublime era of Greek philosophy is of inestimable value to us 
who live in Christian times, because it is an exhaustive effo7't of 
hu?)tan reason to solve the problem of beings and in its history we 
have a record of the power and weakness of the human mind, 
at once on the grandest scale and in the fairest characters/ 

These preliminary considerations will have prepared the way 
for, and awakened in our minds a profound interest in, the in- 
quiry — I St. AVhat permanent results has Greek philosophy be- 
queathed to the world? 2d. In what manner did Greek philos- 
ophy fulfill for Christianity 2i propedeutic office ? 

It will at once be obvious, even to those who are least con- 
versant with our theme, that it wcfuld be fruitless to attempt 
the answer to these important questions before w-e have made 
a careful survey of the entire history of philosophic thought in 
Greece. We must have a clear and definite conception of the 
problems they sought to solve, and we must comprehend their 
methods of inquiry, before we can hope to appreciate the re- 
sults they reached, or determine whether they did arrive at any 
definite and valuable conclusions. It will, therefore, devolve 
upon us to present a brief and yet comprehensive epitome of 
the history of Grecian speculative thought. 

^'' Philosophy ^^ says Cousin, "/i- reflection, and nothing else 
than reflection, in a vast form " — " Reflection elevated to the 
rank and authority of a method^ It is the mind looking back 
upon its own sensations, perceptions, cognitions, ideas, and 
from thence to the causes of these sensations, cognitions, and 
ideas. It is thought passing beyond the simple perceptions of 
things, beyond the mere spontaneous operations of the mind in 
the cognition of things, to seek the groimd, and reason, and law 
of things. It is the effort of reason to solve the great problem 
of " Being and Becoming," of appearance and reality, of the 
changeful and the permanent. Beneath the endless diversity 
of the universe, of existence and action, there must be a princi- 
^ See article "Philosophy," in Smith's "Dictionary of the Bible." 



GMEEK PHILOSOPnT. 271 

pie of unity ; below all fleeting appearances there must be a 
permanent substance ; beyond this everlasting flow and change^ 
this beginning and ending of finite existence, there must be an 
eternal being, the source and cause of all we see and know. 

What is that principle of unity ^ that permanent substance^ or j)rin- 
ciple, or being ? 

This fundamental question has assumed three separate 
forms or aspects in the history of philosophy. These forms 
have been determined by the objective phenomena which most 
immediately arrested and engaged the attention of men. If 
external nature has been the chief object of attention, then the 
problem of philosophy has been. What is the ap^ij — the begin- 
nifig; what are the first priiiciples — the elements from which, the 
ideas or laws according to which, the efficie7it cause or eiiergy by 
which, and the reason or end for which the universe exists .? Dur- 
ing this period reflective thought was a Philosophy of Nature. 
If the phenomena of mind — the opinions, beliefs, judgments of 
men — are the chief object of attention, then the problem of 
philosophy has been, What are the fujidamental Ideas which are 
unchangeable and permanent amid all the diversities of human 
opinions, connectifig appearance with reality, and constituting a 
ground of certain knowledge or absolute truth ? Reflective 
thought is now a Philosophy of Ideas. Then, lastly, if the prac- 
tical activities of life and the means of well-being be the grand 
object of attention, then the problem of philosophy has been, 

What is the ultimate standard by which, amid all the diversities 
of human conduct, we may determine what is right and good iti in- 
dividual, social, and political life ? And now reflective thought 
is a Philosophy of Life. These are the grand problems with 
which philosophy has grappled ever since the dawn of reflec- 
tion. They all appear in Greek phflosophy, and have a marked 
chronology. As systems they succeed each other, just as rig- 
orously as the phenomena of Greek civilization. 

The Greek schools of philosophy have been classified from 
various points of view. In view of their geographical relations, 



2 72 CHRISTIANITY AND 

they have been divided into the lofiian, the Italian^ the Eleatic^ 
the Athenian^ and the Alexandrian. In view of their prevaiUng 
spirit and tendency, they have been classified by Cousin as the 
Sensational, the Idealistic, the Skeptical, and the Mystical. 
The jnost natural and obvious method is that which (regarding 
Socrates as the father of Greek philosophy in the truest sense) 
arranges all schools from the Socratic stand-point, and there- 
fore in the chronological order of development : 
I. The pre-Socratic Schools. 
II, The Socratic Schools. 

III. The post-Socratic Schools. 

The history of philosophy is thus divided into three grand 
epochs. The first reaching from Thales to the time of Socrates 
(B.C. 639-469); the second from the birth of Socrates to the 
death of Aristotle (b.c. 469-322); the third from the death of 
Aristotle to the Christian era (b.c. 322, a.d. i). Greek philos- 
ophy during the first period w^as almost exclusively a philoso- 
phy of nature ; during the second period, a philosophy of mind ; 
during the last period, a philosophy of life. Nature, man, and 
society complete the circle of thought. Successive systems, of 
course, overlap each other, both in the order of time and as 
subjects of human speculation ; and the results of one epoch 
of thought are transmitted to and appropriated by another ; 
but, in a general sense, the order of succession has been very 
much as here indicated. Setting aside minor schools and 
merely incidental discussions, and fixing our attention on the 
general aspects of each historic period, w^e shall discover that 
the first period was eminently Physical^ the second Psychologi- 
cal^ the last Ethical. Every stage of progress which reason, on 
d/r/(9r/ grounds, would suggest as the natural order of thought, 
or of which the development of an individual mind would fur- 
nish an analog}', had a corresponding realization in the devel- 
opment of Grecian thought from the time of Thales to the 
Christian era. " Thought," says Cousin, " in the first trial of 
its strength is drawn without." The first object which engages 
the attention of the child is the outer world. He asks the 



GREEK PHlLOSOrHY. 273 

'■^how^^ and ^^why^^ of all he sees. His reason urges him to 
seek an explanation of the universe. So it was in the child- 
hood of philosophy. The first essays of human thought were, 
almost without exception, discourses Ttepl (pvaEii)Q (De rerum na- 
tura), of the nature of things. Then the rebound of baffled 
reason from the impenetrable bulwarks of the universe drove 
the mind back upon itself If the youth can not interpret 
nature, he can at least " know himself," and find within him- 
self the ground and reason of all existence. There are ^^ ideas" 
in the human mind which are copies of those ^^ archetypal ideas" 
which dwell in the Creative Mind, and after which the universe 
was built. If by "analysis" and "definition" these universal 
notions can be distinguished from that which is particular and 
contingent in the aggregate of human knowledge, then so much 
of eternal truth has been attained. The achievements of phil- 
osophic thought in this direction, during the Socratic age, have 
marked it as the most brilliant period in the history of philos- 
ophy — the period of its youthful Vigor. Deeply immersed in 
the practical concerns and conflicts of public life, manhood is 
mainly occupied with questions of personal duty, and indivi- 
dual and social well-being. And so, during the hopeless tur- 
moil of civil disturbance which marked the decline of national 
greatness in Grecian history, philosophy was chiefly occupied 
with questions of personal interest and personal happiness. 
The poetic enthusiasm with which a nobler age had longed for 
truths and sought it as the highest good, has all disappeared, 
and now one sect seeks refuge from the storms and agitations 
of the age in Stoical indifference, the other in Epicurean ef- 
feminacy. 

If now we have succeeded in presenting the real problem 
of philosophy, it will at once be obvious that the inquiry was 
not, in any proper sense, theological. Speculative thought, dur- 
ing the period we have marked as the era of Greek philosophy, 
was not an inquiry concerning the existence or nature of God, 
or concerning the relations of man to God, or the duties which 
man owes to God. These questions were all remitted to the 

18 



274 CHRISTIANITY AND 

theologian. There was a clear line of demarkation separat- 
ing the domains of religion and philosophy. Religion rested 
solely on authority, and appealed to the instinctive faith of the 
human heart. She permitted no encroachment upon her set- 
tled usages, and no questioning of her ancient beliefs. Philos- 
ophy rested on reason alone. It was an independent effort of 
thought to interpret nature, and attain the fundamental grounds 
of human knowledge — to find an dpx»y — a first principle, which, 
being assumed, should furnish a rational explanation of all ex- 
istence. If philosophy reach the conclusion that the apxh was 
water, or air, or fire, or a chaotic mixture of all the elements or 
atoms, extended and self-moved, or monads, or to Trdr, or un- 
created mind, and that conclusion harmonized with the ancient 
standards of religious faith — well ; if not, philosophy must pre- 
sent some method of conciliation. The conflicts of faith and 
reason ; the strugglings of traditional authority to maintain 
supremacy; the accommodations and conciliations attempted 
in those primitive times, would furnish a chapter of peculiar 
interest, could it now be written. 

The poets who appeared in the dim twilight of Grecian civil- 
ization — Orpheus, Musaeus, Homer, Hesiod — seem to have oc- 
cupied the same relation to the popular mind in Greece which 
the Bible now sustains to Christian communities.^ Not that 
we regard them as standing on equal ground of authority, or 
in any sense a revelation. But, in the eye of the wondering 
Greek, they were invested with the highest sacredness and the 
supremest authority. The high poetic inspiration which per- 
vaded them was a supernatural gift. Their sublime utterances 
were accepted as proceeding from a divine afflatus. They were 
the product of an age in which it was believed by all that the gods 
assumed a human form,'^ and held a real intercourse with gifted 

^ " Homer was, in a certain sense, the Bible of the Greeks." — Whewell, 
" Platonic Dialogues," p. 283. 

"^ The universality of this belief is asserted by Cicero : " Vetus opinio est, 
jam usque ab heroicis ducta temporibus, eaque et populi Romani et omnium 
gentium firmata consensu, versari quandem inter homines divinationem." — 
Cicero, " De Divin." bk. i. ch. i. 



GREEK PHILOSOFHT. 275 

men. This universal faith is regarded by some as being a 
relic of still more distant times, a faint remembrance of the 
glory of patriarchal days. The more natural opinion is, that it 
was begotten of that universal longing of the human heart for 
some knowledge of that unseen world of real being, which man 
instinctively felt must lie beyond the world of fleeting change 
and delusive appearances. It was a prolepsis^of the soul, 
reaching upv/ard towards its source and goal. The poet felt 
within him some native affinities therewith, and longed for some 
stirring breath of heaven to sweep the harp-strings of the soul. 
He invoked the inspiration of the Goddess of Song, and waited 
for, no doubt believed in, some " deific impulse " descending on 
him. And the people eagerly accepted his utterance as the 
teaching of the gods. They were too eager for some knowl- 
edge from that unseen world to question their credentials. 
Orpheus, Hesiod, Homer, were the 6eoX6yoi — the theologians 
of that age.^ 

These ancient poems, then, were the public documents of 
the religion of Greece — the repositories of the national faith. 
And it is deserving of especial note that the philosopher was 
just as anxious to sustain his speculations by quoting the high 
traditional authority of the ancient theologian, as the pro- 
pounder of modern novelties is to sustain his notions by the 
authority of the Sacred Scriptures. Numerous examples of 
this solicitude will recur at once to the remembrance of the 
student of Plato. All encroachments of philosophy upon the 
domains of religion were watched as jealously in Athens in the 
sixth century before Christ, as the encroachments of science 
upon the fields of theology were watched in Rome in the seven- 
teenth century after Christ. The court of the Areopagus was 
as earnest, though not as fanatical and cruel, in the defense of 
the ancient faith, as the court of the Inquisition was in the de- 
fense of the dogmas of the Romish Church. The people, also, 
as " the sacred wars " of Greece attest, were ready quickly to 
repel every assault upon the majesty of their religion. And so 

' Cicero. 



276 CHRISTIANITY AND 

philosophy even had its martyrs. The tears of Pericles were 
needed to save Aspasia, because she was suspected of philoso- 
phy. But neither his eloquence nor his tears could save his 
friend Anaxagoras, and he was ostracized. Aristotle had the 
greatest difficulty to save his life. And Plato was twice im- 
prisoned, and once sold into slavery.^ 

It is unnecessary that we should, in this place, again at- 
tempt the delineation of the theological opinions of the earlier 
periods of Grecian civilization. That the ancient Greeks be- 
lieved in ojte Supreme God has been conclusively proved by 
Cud worth. The argument of his fourth chapter is incontro- 
vertible.^ However great the number of " generated gods " 
who crowded the Olympus, and composed the ghostly array 
of Greek mythology, they were all subordinate agents, " demi- 
urges," employed in the framing of the world and all material 
things, or else the ministers of the moral and providential gov- 
ernment of the elg deog ayev-qroQ — the One uncreated God. Be- 
neath, or beyond the whole system of pagan polytheism, we 
recognize a faith in an Uncreated Mmd, th& Source of all the in- 
telligence, and order, and harmony which pervades the uni- 
verse j the Fountain of law and justice ; the Ruler of the world ; 
the Avenger of injured innocence ; and the final Judge of men. 
The immortality . of the soul and a state of future retribution 
were necessary corollaries of this sublime faith. This primitive 
theology was unquestionably the people's faith ; the faith, also, 
of the philosopher, in his inmost heart, however far he might 
wander in speculative thought. CPhe instinctive feeling of the 
human heart, the spontaneous intuitions of the human reason, 
have led man, in every age, to recognize a God. / It is within 
the fields of speculative thought that skepticism has had. it3 
birth.] Any thing like atheism has only made its appearance 
amid the efforts of human reason to explain the universe. The 
native sentiments of the heart and the spontaneous movements 

^ Cousin's " Lectures on the History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 305. 
"^ " Intellectual System of the Universe ;" see also ch. iii., •' On the Re- 
ligion of the Athenians." 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 277 

of the reason have always been towards faith, that is, towards 
" a rehgious movement of the soul."' Unbridled speculative 
thought, which turns towards the outer world alone, and disre- 
gards "the voices of the soul," tends towards (/<?2^^/ and irre- 
ligion. But, as Cousin has said, "a complete extravagance, a 
total delusion (except in case of real derangement), is impossi- 
ble." "Beneath reflection there is still spontaneity, when the 
scholar has denied the existence of a God ; listen to the man, 
interrogate him unawares, and you will see that all his words 
betray the idea of a God, and that faith in a God is, without 
his recognition, at the bottom of his heart. "'^ 

Let us not, therefore, be too hasty in representing the early 
philosophers as destitute of the idea of a God, because in the 
imperfect and fragmentary representations which are given us 
of the philosophical opinions of Thales, and Anaximenes, and 
Heraclitus, and Diogenes of Apollonia, we find no explicit allu- 
sions to the Uncreated Mind 2J=> the first principle and cause of 
all. A few sentences will comprehend the whole of what re- 
mains of the opinions of the earliest philosophers, and these 
were transmitted for ages by oral tradition. To Plato and 
Aristotle we are chiefly indebted for a stereotype of those scat- 
tered, fragmentary sentences which came to their hands through 
the dim and distorting medium of more than two centuries. 
Surely no one imagines these few sentences contain and sum 
up the results of a lifetime of earnest thought, or represent all 
the opinions and beliefs of the earliest philosophers ! And 
should we find therein no recognition of a personal God, 
would it not be most unfair and illogical to assert that they 
were utterly ignorant of a God, or wickedly denied his being ? 
If they say "there is no God," then they are foolish Atheists ; 
if they are silent on that subject, we have a right to assume 
they were Theists, for it is most natural to believe in God. 
And yet it has been quite customary for Christian teachers, 
after the manner of some Patristic writers, to deny to those 
early sages the smallest glimpse of underived and independent 

* Cousin's " Hist, of Philos.," vol. i. p. 22. "^ Id., ib., vol. i. p. 137. 



278 CHRISTIANITY AND 

knowledge of a Divine Being, in their zeal to assert for the 
Sacred Scriptures the exclusive prerogative of revealing Him. 

Now in regard to the theological opinions of the Greek phi- 
losophers, we shall venture this general lemma — the majority of 
them recognized an ^^incorporeal substance ^^^ an uncreated Intelli- 
gence, an ordering, governing Mind. Leucippus, Democritus, 
and Epicurus, who were Materialists, are perhaps the only ex- 
ceptions. Many of them were Pantheists, in the higher form 
of Pantheism, which, though it associates the universe with its 
framer and mover, still makes "the moving principle" superior 
to that which is moved. The world was a living organism, 

" Whose body nature is, and God the soul." 

Unquestionably most of them recognized the existence of two 
first principles, substances essentially distinct, which had co- 
existed from eternity — an incorporeal Deity and matter.'^ We 
grant that the free production of a universe by a creative fiat — 
the calling of matter into being by a simple act of omnipotence 
— is not elementary to human reason. The famous physical 
axiom of antiquity, ^'■De nihilo nihil, i?i nihilum posse reverti" 
under one aspect, may be regarded as the expression of the 
universal consciousness of a mental inability to conceive a 
creation out of nothing, or an annihilation.^ " We can not con- 
ceive, either, on the one hand, nothing becoming something, or 
something becoming nothing, on the other hand. When God 
is said to create the universe out of nothing, we think this by 
supposing that he evolves the universe out of himself; and in 
like manner, we conceive annihilation only by conceiving the 
Creator to withdraw his creation from actuality into power."* 
" It is hy faith we understand the worlds were framed by the 
word of God, so that things which are were not made from 
things which do appear " — that is, from pre-existent matter. 

' ^'■Ovaiav aadfiarov." — Plato. 

^ Cudworth's " Intellectual System," vol. i. p. 269. 

^ Mansell's "Limits of Religious Thought," p. 100. 

* Sir William Hamilton's "Discussions on Philosophy," p. 575. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 279 

Those writers ^ are, therefore, clearly in error who assert that 
the earliest question of Greek philosophy was, What is God ? 
and that various and discordant answers were given, Thales 
saying, water is God , Anaximenes, air ; Heraclitus, fire ; Py- 
thagoras, numbers ; and so on. The idea of God is a native 
intuition of the mind. It springs up spontaneously from the 
depths of the human soul. The human mind naturally recog- 
nizes God as an uncreated Mind, and recognizes itself as " the 
offspring of God." And, therefore, it is simply impossible for 
it to acknowledge water, or air, or fire, or any material thing to 
be its God. Now they who reject this fundamental principle 
evidently misapprehend the real problem of early Grecian phil- 
osophic thought. The external world, the material universe, 
was the first object of their inquiry, and the method of their in- 
quiry was, at the first stage, purely physical. Every object of 
sense had a beginning and an end ; it rose out of something, 
and it fell back into something. Beneath this ceaseless flow 
and change there must be some permanent principle. What 
is that (TTOLXE~iov — that first element? The changes in the uni-" 
verse seem to obey some principle of law — they have an orderly 
succession. What is that fiopcprj — that form, or ideal, or arche- 
type, proper to each thing, and according to which all things 
are produced? These changes must be produced by some 
efficient cause, some power or being which is itself immobile, 
and permanent, and eternal, and adequate to their production. 
What is that apxri Tfjg KLvfiaeog — that first principle of move- 
ment ? Then, lastly, there must be an end for which all things 
exist — a good reason why things are as they are, and not other- 
wise. What is that to ov 'ivEKev koI to ayadoy — that reason and 
good of all things ? Now these are all apxai or first principles 
of the universe. " Common to all first principles," says Aris- 
totle, '•' is the being, the original, from which a thing is, or is pro- 
duced, or is known."^ First principles, therefore, include both 
elements and causes, and, under certain aspects, elements are 

^ As the writer of the article '* Attica," in the Encyclopaedia Britannica. 
^ " Metaphysics," bk. iv. ch. i. p. 112 (Bohn's edition). 



28o CHRISTIANITY AND 

also causes, in so far as they are that without which a thing can 
not be produced. Hence that highest generalization by Aris- 
totle of all first principles ; as — i. The Material Cause ; 2. The 
Formal Cause ; 3. The Efficient Cause ; 4. The Final Cause. 
The grand subject of inquiry in ancient philosophy was not 
alone what is the final element from which all things have been 
produced ? nor yet what is the effide?it cause of the movement 
and the order of the universe .'* but what are those First Princi- 
ples which, being assumed, shall furnish a rational explanation 
of all phenomena, of all becoming .? 

So much being premised, we proceed to consider the efforts 
and the results of philosophic thought in 

THE PRE-SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. 

" The first act in the drama of Grecian speculation was per- 
formed on the varied theatre of the Grecian colonies — Asiatic, 
insular, and Italian, verging at length (in Anaxagoras) towards 
Athens." During the progress of this drama two distinct 
•schools of philosophy were developed, having distinct geo- 
graphical provinces, one on the east, tlie other on the west, of 
the peninsula of Greece, and deriving their names from the 
localities in which they flourished. The earliest was the loniaJi; 
the latter was the Italian school. 

It would be extremely difficult, at this remote period, to es- 
timate the influence which geographical conditions and ethnical 
relations exerted in determining the course of philosophic 
thought in these schools. Unquestionably those conditions 
contributed somewhat towards fixing their individuality. At 
the same time, it must be granted that the distinction in these 
two schools of philosophy is of a deeper character than can be 
represented or explained by geographical surroundings ; it is a 
distinction reaching to the very foundation of their habits of 
thought. These schools represent two distinct aspects of phil- 
osophic thought, two distinct methods in which the human 
mind has essayed to solve the problem of the universe. 

The ante-Socratic schools were chiefly occupied with the 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 281 

Study of external nature. " Greek philosophy was, at its first 
appearance, a philosophy of nature." It was an effort of the 
reason to reach a "first principle" which should explain the 
universe. This early attempt was purely speculative. It 
sought to interpret all phenomena by hypotheses, that is, by 
suppositions, more or less plausible, suggested by physical an- 
alogies or by d priori rational conceptions. 

Now there are two distinct aspects under which nature pre- 
sents itself to the observant mind. The first and most obvious 
is the simple phe7iome7ia as perceived by the senses. The sec- 
ond is the relations oi phenomena, cognized by the reason alone. 
Let phenomena, which are indeed the first objects of perception, 
continue to be the chief and almost exclusive object of thought, 
and philosophy is on the highway of pure physics. On the 
other hand, instead of stopping at phenomena, let their rela- 
tions become the sole object of thought, and philosophy is now 
on the road of purely mathematical or metaphysical abstraction. 
Thus two schools of philosophy are developed, the one sensa- 
tional, the other idealist. Now these, it will be found, are 
the leading and characteristic tendencies of the two grand di- 
visions of the pre-Socratic schools ; .the Ionian is sensational, 
the Italian is idealist. 

These two schools have again been the subject of a further 
sub-division based upon diverse habits of thought. The Ionian 
school sought to explain the universe by physical analogies. 
Of these there are two clear and obvious divisions — analogies 
suggested by living organisms, and analogies suggested by me- 
chanical arrangements. One class of philosophers in the Ioni- 
an school laid hold on the first analogy. They regarded the 
world as a living being, spontaneously evolving itself— a vital 
organism whose successive developments and transformations 
constitute all visible phenomena. A second class laid hold 
on the analogy suggested by mechanical arrangements. For 
them the universe was a grand superstructure, built up from 
elemental particles, arranged and united by some ab-extra 
power or' force, or else aggregated by some inherent mutual 



282 CHRISTIANITY AND 

affinity. Thus we have two sects of the Ionian school; the 
first, Dynamical, or vital; the second, Mechanical^ 

The Italian school sought to explain the universe by rational 
conceptions and d priori ideas. Now to those who seek, by 
simple reflection, to investigate the relations of the external 
world this marked distinction will present itself : some are re- 
lations betweefi sensible phenomena — relations of time, of place, 
of number, of proportion, and of harmony ; others are relations 
of phenomena to essential being — relations of qualities to sub- 
stance, of becoming to being, of the finite to the infinite. The 
former constituted the field of Pythagorean the latter of Eleatic 
contemplation. The Pythagoreans sought to explain the uni- 
verse by numbers, forms, and harmonies ; the Eleatics by the 
d, priori ideas of unity, substance. Being in se, the Infinite. 
Thus were constituted a Mathematical and a Metaphysical sect 
in the Italian school. The pre-Socratic schools may, therefore, 
be tabulated in the following order : 

I. Ionian (Sensational), (i.) Physical | M^^rnictl°' ^'''^^* 

II Italian (Idealist) \ ^^"^ Mathematical . . . Pythagoreans. 
11. ITALIAN (laeanst;, -j ^^^ Metaphysical. . . . Eleatics. 

I. The Ionian or Physical School — ^AVe have premised that 
the philosophers of this school attempted the explanation of 
the universe by physical analogies. 

One class of these early speculators, the Dynamical, or vital 
theorists, proceeded on the supposition of a living energy in- 
folded in nature, which in its spontaneous development contin- 
uously undergoes alteration both of quality and form. This 
imperfect analogy is the first hypothesis of childhood. The 
child personifies the stone that hurts him, and his first impulse 
is to resent the injury as though he imagined it to be endowed 
with consciousness, and to be acting with design. The child- 
hood of superstition (whose genius is multiplicity) personifies 
each individual existence — a rude Fetichism, which imagines a 
supernatural power and presence enshrined in every object of 
^ Ritter's "Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. pp. 191, 192. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 283 

nature, in every plant, and stock, and stone. The childhood 
of philosophy (whose genius is unity) personifies the universe. 
It regards the earth, as one vast organism, animated by one 
soul, and this soul of the world as a "created god."^ The first 
efforts of philosophy were, therefore, simply an attempt to ex- 
plain the universe in harmony with the popular theological be- 
liefs. The cosmogonies of the early speculators in the Ionian 
school were an elaboration of the ancient thedgonies, but still 
an elaboration conducted under the guidance of that law of 
thought which constrains man to seek for unity, and reduce the 
many to the one. 

Therefore, in attempting to construct a theory of the universe 
they commenced by postulating an apxh — a first principle or 
element out of which, by a vital process, all else should be pro- 
duced. " Accordingly, whatever seemed the most subtle or pli- 
able, as well as tmiversal element in the mass of the visible 
world, was marked as the seminal principle whose successive 
developments and transformations produced all the rest."^ 
With this seminal principle the living, animating principle 
seems to have been associated — in some instances perhaps 
confounded, and in most instances called by the same name. 
And having pursued this analogy so far, we shall find the 
most decided and conclusive evidence of a tendency to regard 
the soul of man as similar, in its nature, to the soul which ani- 
mates the world. 

Thales of Miletus (b.c. 636-542) was the first to lead the way 
in the perilous inquiry after an apx>7j or first principle, which 
should furnish a rational explanation of the universe. Follow- 
ing, as it would seem, the genealogy of Hesiod, he supposed 
water to be the primal element out of which all material things 
were produced. Aristotle supposes he was impressed with this 
idea from observing that all things are nourished by moisture ; 
warmth itself, he declared, proceeded from moisture ; the seeds 
of all things are moist ; water, when condensed, becomes earth. 

^ Plato's "Laws," bk. x. ch. i, ; "Timaeus," ch. xii. 

'^ Butler's " Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. p. 292. 



284 CHlilSTIANITY AND 

Thus convinced of the universal presence of water, he declared 
it to be the first principle of things.^ 

And now, from this brief statement of the Thalean physics, 
are we to conclude that he recognized only a material cause of 
the universe ? Such is the impression we receive from the 
reading of the First Book of Aristotle's Metaphysics, His evi- 
dent purpose is to prove that the first philosophers of the Ionian 
school did not recognize an efficient cause. In his opinion, they 
w^ere decidedly materialistic. Now to question the authority of 
Aristotle may appear to many an act of presumption. But 
Aristotle was not infallible ; and nothing is more certain than 
that in more than one instance he does great injustice to his 
predecessors.^ To him, unquestionably, belongs the honor of 
having made a complete and exhaustive classification of causes; 
but there certainly does appear something more than vanity in 
the assumption that he, of all the Greek philosophers, was the 
only one who recognized them all. His sagacious classification 
was simply a resume of the labors of his predecessors. His 
" principles " or " causes " were incipient in the thought of the 
first speculators in philosophy. Their accurate definition and 
clearer presentation was the work of ages of analytic thought. 
The phrases " efficient," " formal," " final " cause, are, we grant, 
peculiar to Aristotle ; the ideas were equally the possession of 
his predecessors. 

The evidence, we think, is conclusive that, with this primal 
element (water), Thales associated a formative principle of mo- 
tion ; to the " material " he added the " efficient " cause. A 
strong presumption in favor of this opinion is grounded on the 
psychological views of Thales. The author of " De Placitis 
Philosophorum " associates him with Pythagoras and Plato, in 
teaching that the soul is incorporeal, making it naturally self- 
active, and an intelligent substance.^ And it is admitted by 

^ Aristotle's *' Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. iii. 

^ Lewes's " Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 77 ; Cousin's " The 
True, the Beautiful, and the Good," p. ']']. 

" Cudvvorth's "Intellectual System," vol. i. p. 71. 



GBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 285 

Aristotle (rather unwillingly, we grant, but his testimony is all 
the more valuable on that account) that, in his time, the opin- 
ion that the soul is a principle, aeiKiyrjTov — ever moving, or es- 
sentially self-active, was currently ascribed to Thales. " If we 
may rely on the notices of Thales, he too would seem to have 
conceived the soul as a moving pri?tcipie.^^^ Extending this 
idea, that the soul is a moving principle, he held that all mo- 
tion in the universe was due to the presence of a living soul. 
"He is reported to have said that the loadstone possessed a 
soul because it could move iron."^ And he taught that " the 
world itself is anhnated, and full of gods."® " Some think that 
sotil and life is mingled with the whole universe ; and thence, 
perhaps, was that [opinion] of Thales that all things are full of 
gods,"* portions, as Aristotle said, of the universal soul. These 
views are quite in harmony with the theology which makes 
the Deity the moving energy of the universe — the energy 
which wrought the successive transformations of the primitive 
aqueous element. They also furnish a strong corroboration of 
the positive statement of Cicero — " Aquam, dixit Thales, esse 
initium rerum, Deum autem cam mentem quae ex aqua cuncta 
fingeret." Thales said that water is the first principle of things, 
but God was that mind which formed all things out of water f 
as also that still more remarkable saying of Thales, recorded 
by Diogenes Laertius ; " God is the most ancient of all things, 
for he had no birth ; the world is the most beautiful of all 
things, for it is the workmanship of God."^ We are aware that 
some historians of philosophy reject the statement of Cicero, 
because, say they, " it does violence to the chronology of specu- 
lation."^ Following Hegel, they assert that Thales could have 
no conception of God as Intelligence, since that is a conception 
of a more advanced philosophy. Such an opinion may be 
naturally expected from the philosopher who places God, not 

' Aristotle, ** De Anima," i. 2, 17. ^ Id,, ib., i. 2, 17. 

^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," p. 18 (Bohn's ed.). 
* Aristotle, " De Anima," i. 17. ^ " De Natura Deor.," bk. i. ch. x. 

® "Lives," etc., p. 19. ' Lewes's " Hist. Philos.," p. 4. 



286 CHRISTIANITY AND 

at the commencement, but at the end of things, God becoming 
conscious and intelligent in humanity. If, then, Hegel teaches 
that God himself has had a progressive development, it is no 
wonder he should assert that the idea of God has also had an 
historic development, the last term of which is an ifiteiiigent 
God. But he who believes that the idea of God as the infinite 
and the perfect is native to the human mind, and that God 
stands at the beginning of the entire system of things, will feel 
there is a strong d priori ground for the belief that Thales rec- 
ognized the existence of an intelligent God who fashioned the 
imiverse. 

Ajiaximenes of Miletus (b.c. 529-480) we place next to 
Thales in the consecutive history of thought. It has been 
usual to rank Anaximander next to the founder of the Ionian 
School. The entire complexion of his system is, however, un- 
like that of a pupil of Thales. And we think a careful consid- 
eration of his views will justify our placing him at the head 
of the Mechanical or Atomic division of the Ionian school. 
Anaximenes is the historical successor of Thales ; he was un- 
questionably a vitalist. He took up the speculation where 
Thales had left it, and he carried it a step forward in its de- 
velopment.^ 

Pursuing the same method as Thales, he was not, however, 
satisfied with the conclusion he had reached. Water was not 
to Anaximenes the most significant, neither was it the most 
universal element. But air seemed universally present. " The 
earth was a broad leaf resting upon it. All things were pro- 
duced from it ; all things were resolved into it. When he 
breathed he drew in a part of this universal life. All things 
are nourished by air."^ Was not, therefore, air the apxv? ox pri- 
mal element of things ? 

This brief notice of the physical speculations of Anaximenes 
is all that has survived of his opinions. We search in vain for 
some intimations of his theological views. On this merely 

' Ritter's " History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. p. 203. 
' Lewes's " Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 7. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 287 

negative ground, some writers have unjustly charged him with 
Atheism. Were we to venture a conjecture, we would rather 
say that there are indications of a tendency to Pantheism ii\ 
that form of it which associates God necessarily with the uni- 
verse, but does not utterly confound them. His fixing upon 
"<2/r" as the primal element, seems an effort to reconcile, in 
some apparently intermediate substance, the opposite qualities 
of corporeal and spiritual natures. Air is invisible, impalpable, 
all-penetrating, and yet in some manner appreciable to sense. 
May not the vital transformations of this element have pro- 
duced all the rest ? The writer of the Article on Anaximenes 
in the Encyclopaedia Britannica tells us (on what ancient au- 
thorities he saith not) that " he asserted this air was God, since 
the divine power resides in it and agitates it." 

Some indications of the views, of Anaximenes may perhaps 
be gathered from the teachings of Diogenes of ApoUonia (b.c. 
520-490,) who was the disciple, and is generally regarded as 
the commentator and expounder of the views of Anaximenes. 
The air of Diogenes was a soul ; therefore it was lizmig, and not 
only living, but conscious and intelligent. " It knows much," 
says he; "for without reason it would be impossible for all to 
be arranged duly and proportionately; and whatever objects 
we consider will be found to be so arranged and ordered in the 
best and most beautiful manner."^ Here we have a distinct 
recognition of the fundamental axiom that mind is the only val- 
id explanation of the order and harmony which pervades the tini- 
verse. With Diogenes the first principle is a "divine air," 
which is vital, conscious, and intelligent, which spontaneously 
evolves itself, and which, by its ceaseless transformations, pro- 
duces all phenomena. The soul of man is a detached portion 
of this divine element ; his body is developed or evolved there- 
from. The theology of Diogenes, and, as we believe, of his 
master, Anaximenes also, was a species of Materialistic Pan- 
theism. 

^ Lewes's "Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 8; Ritter's "History 
of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. p. 214. 



288 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Heraditus of Ephesus (b.c. 503-420) comes next in the order 
of speculative thought. In his philosophy, fire is the apx'/, or 
first principle ; but not fire in the usual acceptation of that 
term. The Heraclitean " fire " is not flame, which is only an 
intensity of fire, but a warm, dry vapor — an ether, which may 
be illustrated, perhaps, by the "caloric" of modern chemistry. 
This ^^ ether'' was the primal element out of which the universe 
was formed ; it was also a vital power or principle which ani- 
mated the universe, and, in fact, the cause of all its successive 
phenomenal changes. "The world," he said, "was neither 
made by the gods nor men, and it was, and is, and ever shall 
be, an ever-living fire, in due proportion self-enkindled, and in 
due measure self-extinguished."^ The universe is thus reduced 
to " an eternal fire," whose ceaseless energy is manifested 
openly in the work of dissoiuiion, and yet secretly, but univer- 
sally, in the w^ork of renovation. The phenomena of the uni- 
verse are explained by Heraclitus as " the concurrence of oppo- 
site tendencies and efforts in the motions of this ever-living fire, 
out of which results the most beautiful harmony. This harmo- 
ny of the world is one of conflicting impulses, like the lyre and 
the bow. The strife between opposite tendencies is the parent 
of all things. All life is change, and change is strife."^ 

Heraclitus was the first to proclaim the doctrine of the per- 
petual fluxion of the universe {to piov, to yiyvo^evov — Unrest 
and Development), the endless changes of matter, and the mu- 
tability and perishability of all individual things. This restless, 
changing flow of things, which never are, but always are becom- 
ing, he pronounced to be the One and the AIL 

From this statement of the physical theory of Heraclitus we 
might naturally infer that he was a Hylopathean Atheist. Such 
an hypothesis would not, however, be truthful or legitimate. On 
a more careful examination, his system will be found to stand 
half-way between the materialistic and the spiritual conception 

' Ritter's "History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. p. 235. 
"^ Lewes's "Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 70; Ritter's "His- 
tory of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. p. 244. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 289 

of the Author of the universe, and marks, indeed, a transition 
from the one to the other. HeracHtus unquestionably held 
that all substance is material, for a philosopher who proclaims, 
as he did, that the senses are the only source of knowledge, 
must necessarily attach himself to a material element as the 
primary one. And yet he seems to have spiritualized matter. 
" The moving unit of HeracHtus — the Becoming — is as immate- 
rial as the resting unit of the Eleatics — the Being. "^ The 
Heraclitean "Jlre " is endowed with spiritual attributes. *' Ar- 
istotle calls it ;//vx^— soul, and says that it is do-w/^arwrarov, or 
absolutely incorporeal ("De Anima," i. 2. 16). It is, in effect, 
the common ground of the phenomena both of mind and mat- 
ter ; it is not only the animating, but also the intelligent and 
regulating principle of the universe ; the Swoq Aoyoe, or uni- 
versal Word or Reason, which it behooves all men to follow."^ 
The psychology of Heraclitus throws additional light upon his 
theological opinions. With him human intelligence is a de- 
tached portion of the Universal Reason. "Inhaling," said he, 
" through the breath the Universal Ether, which is Divine Rea- 
son, we become conscious." The errors and imperfections of 
humanity are consequently to be ascribed to a deficiency of the 
Divine Reason in man. Whilst, therefore, the theory of Herac- 
litus seems to materialize mind, it may, with equal fairness, be 
said to spiritualize matter. 

The general inference, therefore, from all that remains of 
the doctrine of Heraclitus is that he was a Materialistic Pan- 
theist. His God was a living, rational, intelligent Ether — a 
soul pervading the universe. The form of the universe, its 
ever-changing phenomena, were a necessary emanation from, or 
a perpetual transformation of, this universal soul. 

With Heraclitus we close our survey of that sect of the phys- 
ical school which regarded the world as a living organism. 

The second subdivision of the physical school, the Mechani- 

^ Zeller's " History of Greek Philosophy," vol. i. p. 57. 
^ Butler's " Lectures," vol. i. p. 297, note. 

19 



290 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



cal or Atofnist theorists, attempted the explanation of the uni- 
verse by analogies derived from mechanical collocations, ar- 
rangements, and movements. The universe was regarded by 
them as a vast superstructure built up from elemental particles, 
aggregated by some inherent force or mutual affinity. 

Anaxima7ider of Miletus (born B.C. 610) we place at the head 
of the Mechanical sect of the Ionian school ; first, on the au- 
thority of Aristotle, who intimates that the philosophic dogmata 
of Anaximander "resemble those of Democritus," who was cer- 
tainly an Atomist ; and, secondly, oecause we can clearly trace 
a genetic connection between the opinions of Democritus and 
Leucippus and those of Anaximander. 

The apx'/j or first principle of Anaximander, was to uTreipov, 
the houndlessy the illimitable, the infinite. Some historians of 
philosophy have imagined that the infinite of Anaximander was 
the " unlimited all," and have therefore placed him at the head 
of the Italian or "idealistic school." These writers are mani- 
festly in error. Anaximander was unquestionably a sensation- 
alist. Whatever his " infinite " may be found to be, one thing 
is clear, it was not a "metaphysical infinite" — it did not in- 
clude infinite power, much less infinite mind. 

The testimony of Aristotle is conclusive that by "the infi- 
nite" Anaximander understood the multitude of primary, mate- 
rial particles. He calls it "a jiiy^a, or mixture of elements."^ 
It was, in fact, a chaos — an original state in which the primary 
elements existed in a chaotic combination without limitation or 
division. He assumed a certain '■^ prima materia^^ which was 
neither air, nor water, nor fire, but a "mixture" of all, to be 
the first principle of the universe. The account of the opinions 
of Anaximander which is given by Plutarch ("De Placita," etc.) 
is a further confirmation of our interpretation of his infinite. 
"Anaximander, the Milesian, affirmed the infinite to be the 
first principle, and that all things are generated out of it, and 
corrupted again into it. His infinite is fiothing else but matter." 
" Whence," says Cudworth, " we conclude that Anaximander's 
^ Aristotle's " Metaphysics," bk. xi, ch. ii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 291 

infinite was nothing else but an infinite chaos of matter, in 
which were actually or potentially contained all manner of 
qualities, by the fortuitous secretion and segregation of which 
he supposed infinite worlds to be successively generated and 
corrupted. So that we may easily guess whence Leucippus 
and Democritus had their infinite v/orlds, and perceive how 
near akin these two Atheistic hypotheses were."^ The reader, 
whose curiosity may lead him to consult the authorities col- 
lected by Cudworth ^pp. 185-188), will find in the doctrine of 
Anaximander a rude anticipation of the modern theories of 
"spontaneous generation" and "the transmutation of species." 
In the fragments of Anaximander that remain we find no rec- 
ognition of an ordering Mind, and his philosophy is the dawn 
of a Materialistic school. 

Leucippus of Miletus (b.c. 500-400) appears, in the order of 
speculation, as the successor of Anaximander. Atoms and 
space are, in his philosophy, the apx"'' ^^ ^^^^ principles of all 
things. "Leucippus (and his companion, Democritus) assert 
that the plenum and the vacuum [/. ^., body and space] are the 
first principles, whereof one is the Ens, the other Non-ens \ the 
differences of the body, which are only figure, order, and posi- 
tion, are the causes of all others."* 

He also taught that the elements, and the worlds derived 
from them, are infinite. He describes the manner in which 
the worlds are produced as follows : " Many bodies of various 
kinds and shapes are borne by amputation from the infinite 
[/. ^., the chaotic /zTy/ia of Anaximander] into a vast vacuum, 
and then they, being collected together, produce a vortex ; 
according to which, they, dashing against each other, and 
whirling about in every direction, are separated in such a way 
that like attaches itself to like ; bodies are thus, without ceas- 
ing, united according to the impulse given by the vortex, and 
in this way the earth was produced."^ Thus, through a bound- 

^ Cudworth's "Intellectual System," vol. i. pp. 186, 187. 
^ Aristotle's "Metaphysics," p. 21 (Bohn's edition). 
^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives," p. 389. 



292 CHRISTIANITY AND 

less void, atoms infinite in number and endlessly diversified in 
form are eternally wandering ; and, by their aggregation, infi- 
nite worlds are successively produced. These atoms are gov- 
erned in their movements by a dark negation of intelligence, 
designated " Fate," and all traces of a Supreme Mind disap- 
pear in his philosophy. It is a system of pure materialism, 
which, in fact, is Atheism. 

Democritus of Abdera (b.c. 460-357), the companion of Leu- 
cippus, also taught "that ^/<?^x,and the vacuum were the begin- 
ning of the universe.'" These atoms, he taught, were infinite 
in number, homogeneous, extended, and possessed of those pri- 
mary qualities of matter which are necessarily involved in ex- 
tension in space — as size, figure, situation, divisibility, and mo- 
bility. From the combination of these atoms all other exist- 
ences are produced ; fire, air, earth, and water ; sun, moon, and 
stars ; plants, animals, and men j the soul itself is an aggrega- 
tion of round, moving atoms. And "motion, which is the 
cause of the production of every thing, he calls necessity. ^'''^ 
Atoms are thus the only real existences ; these, without any 
pre -existent mind, or intelligence, were the original of all 
things. 

The psychological opinions of Democritus were as decidedly 
materialistic as his physical theories. All knowledge is de- 
rived from sensation. It is only by material impact that we 
can know the external world, and every sense is, in reality, a 
kind of touch. Material images are being continually thrown 
off from the surface of external objects which come into actual 
contact with the organs of sense. The primary qualities of 
matter, that is, those which are involved in extension in space, 
are the only objects of real knowledge ; the secondary quali- 
ties of matter, as softness, hardness, sweetness, bitterness, and 
the like, are but modifications of the human sensibilities. 
"The sweet exists only in form — the bitter in form, hot in 
form, color in form ; but in causal reality only atoms and 
space exist. The sensible things which are supposed by opin- 
* Diogenes Laertius, " Lives," p. 395. ^ Id., ib., p. 394. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 293 

ion to exist have no real existence, but atoms and space alone 
exist.'" 

Thus by Democritus was laid the basis of a system of abso- 
lute materialism, which was elaborated and completed by Epi- 
curus, and has been transmitted to our times. It has under- 
gone some slight modifications, adapting it to the progress of 
physical science ; but it is to-day substantially the theory of 
Democritus. In Democritus we have the culmination of the 
mechanical theory of the Ionian or Physical school. In physics 
and psychology it terminated in pure materialism. In theology 
it ends in positive Atheism. 

The fundamental error of all the philosophers of the physical 
school was the assumption, tacitly or avowedly, that sense-per- 
ception is the only source of knowledge. This was the fruitful 
source of all their erroneous conclusions, the parent of all their 
materialistic tendencies. This led them continually to seek 
an apxi7> or first principle of the universe, which should, under 
some form, be appreciable to sense; and consequently the 
course of thought tended naturally towards materialism. 

Thales was unquestionably a dualist. Instructed by tradi- 
tional intimations, or more probably guided by the spontaneous 
apperceptions of reason, he recognized, with more or less dis- 
tinctness, an incorporeal Deity as the moving, animating, and 
organizing cause of the universe. The idea of God is a truth 
so self-evident as to need no demonstration. The human mind 
does not attain to the idea of a God as the last consequence of 
a series of antecedent principles. It comes at once, by an in- 
herent and necessary movement of thought, to the recognition 
of God as the First Principle of all principles. But when, in- 
stead of hearkening to the simple and spontaneous intuitions 
of the mind, man turns to the world of sense, and loses himself 
in discursive thought, the conviction of a personal God becomes 
obscured. Then, amid the endlessly diversified phenomena of 
the universe, he seeks for a cause or origin which in some form 

* Lewes's " Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 96. The words of 
Democritus, as reported by Sextus Empiricus, 



294 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



shall be appreciable to sense. The mere study of material 
phenomena, scientifically or unscientifically conducted, will 
never yield the sense of the living God. Nature must be in- 
terpreted, can only be interpreted in the light of certain d pri- 
ori principles of reason, or we can never " ascend from nature 
up to nature's God." Within the circle of mere sense-percep- 
tion, the dim and undeveloped consciousness of God will be 
confounded with the universe. Thus, in Anaximenes, God is 
partially confounded with " air," which becomes a symbol ; then 
a vehicle of the informing mind ; and the result is a semi-pan- 
theism. In Heraclitus, the " ether " is, at first, a semi-symbol 
of the Deity ; at length, God is utterly confounded with this 
ether, or " rational fire," and the result is a definite materialistic 
pantheism. And, finally, when this feeling or dim conscious- 
ness of God, which dwells in all human souls, is not only dis- 
regarded, but pronounced to be an illusion — a phantasy ; when 
all the analogies which intelligence suggests are disregarded, 
and a purely mechanical theory of the universe is adopted, the 
result is the utter negation of an Intelligent Cause, that is, ah- 
solute Atheism^ as in Leucippus and Democritus. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 295 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE PHILOSOPHERS OF ATHENS {continued). 
PRE-SOCRATIC SCHOOL {continued). 

IDEALIST: PYTHAGORAS — XENOPHANES — PARMENIDES — ZENO. NATURAL 
REALIST: ANAXAGORAS. 

SOCRATIC SCHOOL. 

SOCRATES. 

IN the previous chapter we commenced our inquiry with the 
assumption that, in the absence of the true inductive method 
of philosophy which observes, and classifies, and generalizes 
facts, and thence attains a general principle or law, two only 
methods were possible to the early speculators who sought an 
explanation of the universe — ist, That of reasoning from physi- 
cal analogies ; or, 2d, That of deduction from rational concep- 
tions, or d priori ideas. 

Accordingly we found that one class of speculators fixed 
their attention solely on the mere phenomena of nature, and 
endeavored, amid sensible things, to find a single element 
which, being more subtile, and pliable, and universally dif- 
fused, could be regarded as the ground and original of all the 
rest, and from which, by a vital transformation, or by a me- 
chanical combination and arrangement of parts, all the rest 
should be evolved. The other class passed beyond the simple 
phenomena, and considered only the abstract relations of phe- 
nomena among themselves, or the relations of phenomena to 
the necessary and universal ideas of the reason, and supposed 
that, in these relations, they had found an explanation of the 
universe. The former was the Ionian or Sensation school \ 
the latter was the Italian or Idealist school. 

We have traced the method according to which the Ionian 



296 CHRISTIANITY AND 

school proceeded, and estimated the results attained. We 
now come to consider the method and results of 

THE ITALIAN OR IDEALIST SCHOOL. 

This school we have found to be naturally subdivided into 
— ist, The Mathematical SQ-ct, which attempted the explanation 
of the universe by the abstract conceptions of number, propor- 
tion, order, and harmony ; and, 2d, The Metaphysical school, 
which attempted the interpretation of the universe according 
to the d priori ideas of unity, of Being in se, of the Infinite, and 
the Absolute. 

Pythagoras of Samos (born B.C. 605) was the founder of the 
Mathematical school. 

We' are conscious of the difficulties which are to be encoun- 
tered by the student who seeks to attain a definite comprehen- 
sion of the real opinions of Pythagoras. The genuineness of 
many of those writings which were once supposed to represent 
his views, is now questioned. " Modern criticism has clearly 
shown that the works ascribed to Timaeus and Archytas are 
spurious ; and the treatise of Ocellus Lucanus on * The Nature 
of the Air can not have been written by a Pythagorean."^ 
The only writers who can be regarded as at all reliable are 
Plato and Aristotle j and the opinions they represent are not 
so much those of Pythagoras as " the Pythagoreans." This is 
at once accounted for by the fact that Pythagoras taught in 
secret, and did not commit his opinions to writing. His disci- 
ples, therefore, represent the tendency rather than the actual 
tenets of his system ; these were no doubt modified by the 
mental habits and tastes of his successors. 

We may safely assume that the proposition from which 
Pythagoras started was the fundamental idea of all Greek 
speculation — that beneath the fleeting forms and successive cha?iges 
of the universe there is some pernianent principle of unity? The 

' Lewes's *' Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 24. 
"^ See Plato, "Timaeus," ch. ix. p. 331 (Bohn's edition) ; Aristotle's "Met- 
aphysics," bk. V. ch. iii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 297 

Ionian school sought that principle in some common physical 
element ; Pythagoras sought, not for "elements," but for "rela- 
tions," and through these relations for ultimate laws indicating 
primal forces. 

Aristotle affirms that Pythagoras taught " that numbers are 
the first principles of all entities," and, " as it were, a material 
cause of things,"^ or, in other words, " that numbers are sub- 
stances that involve a separate subsistence, and are primary 
causes of entities."^ 

Are we then required to accept the dictum of Aristotle as 
final and decisive ? Did Pythagoras really teach that numbers 
are real entities — the substance and cause of all other exist- 
ences ? The reader may be aware that this is a point upon 
which the historians of philosophy are not agreed. Rltter is 
decidedly of opinion that the Pythagorean formula " can only 
be taken symbolically."^ Lewes insists it must be understood 
literally.'' On a careful review of all the arguments, we are 
constrained to regard the conclusion of Ritter as most reason- 
able. The hypothesis " that numbers are real entities " does 
violence to every principle of common sense. This alone con- 
stitutes a strong dj priori presumption that Pythagoras did not 
entertain so glaring an absurdity. The man who contributed 
so much towards perfecting the mathematical sciences, who 
played so conspicuous a part in the development of ancient 
philosophy, and who exerted so powerful a determining influ- 
ence on the entire current of speculative thought, did not ob- 
tain his ascendency over the intellectual manhood of Greece 
by the utterance of such enigmas. And further, in interpret- 
ing the philosophic opinions of the ancients, we must be guided 
by this fundamental canon — " The human mind has, under the 
necessary operation of its own laws, been compelled to enter- 
tain the same fundamental ideas, and the human heart to cher- 
ish the same feelings in all ages." Now if a careful philo- 

* Aristotle's " Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. v. "^ Id., ib., bk. xii. ch. vL 
^ " History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. p. 359. 

* "Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 38. 



298 CHRISTIANITY AND 

sophic criticism can not render the reported opinions of an an- 
cient teacher into the universal language of the reason and 
heart of humanity, we must conclude either that his opinions 
were misunderstood and misrepresented by some of his suc- 
cessors, or else that he stands in utter isolation, both from the 
present and the past. His doctrine has, then, no relation to 
the successions of thought, and no place in the history of phi- 
losophy. Nay, more, such a doctrine has in it no element of 
vitality, no germ of eternal truth, and must speedily perish. 
Now it is well known that the teaching of Pythagoras awaken- 
ed the deepest intellectual sympathy of his age ; that his doc- 
trine exerted a powerful influence on the mind of Plato, and, 
through him, upon succeeding ages ; and that, in some of its 
aspects, it now survives, and is more influential to-day than in 
any previous age ; but this element of immutable and eternal 
truth was certainly not contained in the inane and empty for- 
mula, " that numbers are real existences, the causes of all other 
existences !" If the fame of Pythagoras had rested on such 
" airy nothings," it would have melted away before the time of 
Plato. 

We grant there is considerable force in the argument of 
Lewes. He urges, with some pertinence, the unquestionable 
fact that Aristotle asserts, again and again, that the Pythago- 
reans taught " that numbers are the principles and substance 
of things as well as the causes of their modifications ;" and he 
argues that we are not justified in rejecting the authority of 
Aristotle, unless better evidence can be produced. 

So far, however, as the authority of Aristotle is concerned, 
even Lewes himself charges him, in more than one instance, 
with strangely misrepresenting the opinions of his predeces- 
sors.^ Aristotle is evidently wanting in that impartiality which 

^"Aristotle uniformly speaks disparagingly of Anaxagoras" (Lewes's 
"Biographical History of Philosophy"). He represents him as employ- 
ing mind {yovq) simply as "a machitic'''' for the production of the world ; — 
" when he finds himself in perplexity as to the cause of its being necessarily 
an orderly system, he then drags it (mind) in by force to his assistance " 
(" Metaphysics," bk, i. ch. iv.). But he is evidently inconsistent with himself, 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 299 

ought to characterize the historian of philosophy, and, some- 
times, we are compelled to question his integrity. Indeed, 
throughout his "Metaphysics" he exhibits the egotism and 
vanity of one who imagines that he alone, of all men, has the 
full vision of the truth. In Books I. and XII. he uniformly as- 
sociates the ^^7tumbers" of Pythagoras with the ^^ forms" and 
" /^^j " of Plato. He asserts that Plato identifies "forms" 
and " numbers," and regards them as real entities — substances, 
and causes of all other things. ^^Forms are numbers^. ... so 
Plato affirmed, similar with the Pythagoreans ; and the dogma 
that numbers are causes to other things — of their substance — 
he, in like manner, asserted with them.""^ And then, finally, he 
employs the same arguments in refuting the doctrines of both. 

Now the writings of Plato are all extant to-day, and accessi- 
ble in an excellent English translation to any of our readers. 
Cousin has shown,^ most conclusively (and we can verify his 
conclusions for ourselves), that Aristotle has totally misrepre- 
sented Plato. And if, in the same connection, and in the course 
of the same argument, and in regard to the same subjects, he 
misrepresents Plato, it is most probable he also misrepresents 
Pythagoras. 

for in "De Anima" (bk. i. ch. ii.) he tells us that "Anaxagoras saith that 
mind is at once a cause of motion in the whole universe, and also oiwell and 
fity We may further ask, is not the idea of fitness — of the good and the 
befitting — the final cause, even according to Aristotle ? 

He also totally misrepresents Plato's doctrine of " Ideas." " Plato's 
Ideas," he says, "are substantial existences — .real beings" ("Metaphysics," 
bk. i. ch. ix.). Whereas, as we shall subsequently show, "they are objects 
of pure conception for human reason, and they are attributes of the Divine 
Reason. It is there they substantially exist" (Cousin, "History of Philos- 
ophy," vol. i. p. 415). It is also pertinent to inquire, what is the difference 
between the " formal cause " of Aristotle and the archetypal ideas of Plato ? 
and is not Plato's to ayaB6v the " final cause ?" Yet Aristotle is forever 
congratulating himself that he alone has properly treated the "formal" and 
the "final cause !" 

^ This, however, was not the doctrine of Plato. He does not say " forms 
are numbers." He says : " God formed things as they first arose according 
to forms and numbers." See " Timaeus," ch. xiv. and xxvii. 

"^ Aristotle's " Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. vi. 

3 " The True, the Beautiful, and the Good," pp. 77-81. 



300 CHBISTIANITY AND 

It is, however, a matter of the deepest interest for us to find 
the evidence gleaming out here and there, on the pages of Ar- 
istotle, that he had some knowledge of the fact that the Pytha- 
gorean numbers were regarded as syfnbols. The " numbers " 
of Pythagoras are, in the mind of Aristotle, clearly identified 
with the "forms" of Plato. Now, in Chapter VI. of the First 
Book he says that Plato taught that these " forms " were 
TrapadeiyfiaTa — models, patterns, exemplars after which created 
things were framed. The numbers of Pythagoras, then, are 
also models and exemplars. This also is admitted by Aris- 
totle. " The Pythagoreans indeed affirm that entities subsist by 
an imitation (/xtynr/o-tc) of numbers.^ Now if ideas, forms, num- 
bers, were the models or paradigms after which " the Opera- 
tor" formed all things, surely it can not be logical to say they 
were the " material " out of which all things were framed, much 
less the " efficient cause " of things. The most legitimate con- 
clusion we can draw, even from the statements of Aristotle, is 
that the Pythagoreans regarded numbers as the best expres- 
sion or representation of those laws of proportion, and order, 
and harmony, which seemed, to their eyes, to pervade the uni- 
verse. Their doctrine was a faint glimpse of that grand dis- 
covery of modern science — that all the higher laws of nature 
assume the fonn of a precise quantitative statement. 

The fact seems to be this, the Pythagoreans busied them- 
selves chiefly with what Aristotle designates "the formal 
cause," and gave little attention to the inquiry concerning "the 
material C2i\ji?>Q.y This is admitted by Aristotle. " Concerning 
fire, or earth, or the other bodies of such kind, they have de- 
clared nothing whatsoever, inasmuch as affirming, in my opin- 
ion, nothing that is peculiar concerning sensible natures.^ They 
looked, as w^e have previously remarked, to the relations of 
phenomena, and having discovered certain "numerical simili- 
tudes," they imagined they had attained an universal principle, 
or law. " If all the essential properties and attributes of things 
were fully represented by the relations of numbers, the philoso- 

* Aristotle's " Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. vL ' Id., ib., bk. i. ch. ix. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 301 

phy which suppHed such an explanation of the universe might 
well be excused from explaining, also, that existence of objects, 
which is distinct from the existence of all their qualities and 
properties. The Pythagorean doctrine of numbers might have 
been combined with the doctrine of atoms, and the combination 
might have led to results worthy of notice. But, so far as we 
are aware, no such combination was attempted, and perhaps 
we of the present day are only just beginning to perceive, 
through the disclosures of chemistry and crystallography, the 
importance of such an inquiry."^ 

These preliminary considerations will have cleared and pre- 
pared the way for a fuller presentation of the philosophic sys- 
tem of Pythagoras. The most comprehensive and satisfactory 
exposition of his " method " is that given by Wm. Archer But- 
ler in his "Lechires on Ancient Philosophy^^ and we feel we can 
not do better than condense his pages.^ 

Pythagoras had long devoted his intellectual adoration to 
the lofty idea of order^ which seemed to reveal itself to his 
mind, as the presiding genius of the serene and silent world. 
He had, from his youth, dwelt with delight upon the eternal re- 
lations of space, and determinate form, and number, in which 
the very idea oi proportion seems to find its first and immedi- 
ate development, and without the latter of which (number), all 
proportion is absolutely inconceivable. To this ardent genius, 
whose inventive energies were daily adding new and surprising 
contributions to the sum of discoverable relations, it at length 
began to appear as if the whole secret of the universe was hid- 
den in these mysterious correspondences. 

In making this extensive generalization, Pythagoras may, on 
his known principles, be supposed to have reasoned as follows : 
The mind of man perceives the relations of an eternal order in 
the proportions of space, and form, and number. That mind 
is, no doubt, a portion of the soul which animates and governs 
the universe ; for on what other supposition shall we account 

^ Whewell's " History of Inductive Sciences," vol. i. p. 78. 
"^ Lecture VI. vol. i. 



302 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



for its internal principle of activity — the very principle which 
characterizes the prime mover, and can scarce be ascribed to 
an inferior nature? And on what other supposition are we to 
explain the identity which subsists between the principles of 
order, authenticated by the reason and the facts of order which 
are found to exist in the forms and multiplicities around us, and 
.independent of us? Can this sameness be other than the 
sameness of the internal and external principles of a common 
nature ? The proportions of the universe inhere in its divine 
soul; they are indeed its very essence, or at least, its attributes. 
The ideas or principles of Order which are implanted in the 
human reason, must inhere in the Divine Reason, and must be 
reflected in the visible world, which is its product. Man, then, 
can boldly affirm the necessary harmony of the world, because 
he has in his own mind a revelation which declares that the 
world, in its real structure, must be the image and copy of that 
d!\mTi^ proportion which he inwardly adores/ 

Again, the world is assuredly perfect^ as being the sensible 
image and copy of the Divinity, the outward and multiple de- 
velopment of the Eternal Unit}^ It must, therefore, when 
thoroughly known and properly interpreted, answer to all which 

^ It is an opinion which goes as far back as the time of Plato, and even 
Pythagoras, and has ever since been widely entertained, that beauty oiform 
consists in some sort oi proportion or harmojiy which may admit of a math- 
ematical expression ; and later and more scientific research is altogether in 
its favor. It is now established that complementary colors, that is, colors 
which when combined make up the full beam, are felt to be beautiful when 
seen simultaneously ; that is, the mind is made to delight in the unities of 
nature. At the basis of music there are certain fixed ratios ; and in poetry, 
of every description, there are measures, and correspondencies. Pythagoras 
has often been ridiculed for his doctrine of " the music of the spheres ;" 
and probably his doctrine was somewhat fanciful, but later science shows 
that there is a harmony in all nature — in its forms, in its forces, and in its 
motions. The highest unorganized and all organized objects take definite 
forms which are regulated by mathematical laws. The forces of nature can be 
estimated in numbers, and light and heat go in undulations, whilst the move- 
ments of the great bodies in nature admit of a precise quantitative expres- 
sion. The harmonies of nature in respect of color, of number, of form, and 
of time are forcibly exhibited in " Typical Forms and Special Ends in Cre- 
ation," by M'Cosh. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 303 

we can conceive as perfect ; tliat is, it must be regulated by laws, 
of which we have the highest principles in those first and ele- 
mentary properties of numbers which stand next to tmity. 
" The world is then, through all its departments, a living arith- 
metic in its development, a realized geometry in its reposed It is 
a k-ocT/jLoe (for the word is purely Pythagorean) — the expression 
of /larmony, the manifestation, to sense, of everlasting order. 

Though Pythagoras found in geometry the fitting initiative 
for abstract speculation, it is remarkable that he himself pre- 
ferred to constitute the science of Numbers as the true repre- 
sentative of the laws of the universe. The reason appears to 
be this : that though geometry speaks indeed of eternal truths, 
yet when the notion of symmetry and proportion is introduced, 
it is often necessary to insist, in preference, upon the properties 
of numbers. Hence, though the universe displays the geometry 
of its Constructor or Animator, yet nature was eminently de- 
fined as the filfirjaiQ TU)v apS}iibv — the imitation of numbers. 

The key to all the Pythagorean dogmas, then, seems to be 
the general formula of unity in multiplicity: — unity either 
evolving itself into multiplicity, or unity discovered as pervading 
multiplicity. The principle of all things, the same principle 
which in this philosophy, as in others, was customarily called 
Deity, is the primitive unit from which all proceeds in the ac- 
cordant relations of the universal scheme. Into the sensible 
world of multitude, the all-pervading Unity has infused his own 
ineffable nature ; he has impressed his own image upon that 
world which is to represent him in the sphere of sense and 
man. What, then, is that which is at once single and multiple, 
identical and diversified — ^which we perceive as the combina- 
tion of a thousand elements, yet as the expression of a single 
spirit — which is a chaos to the sense, a cosmos to the reason } 
What is it but harmony — proportion- — the one governing the 
many, the many lost in the one? The world is therefore a 
harmony in innumerable degrees, from the most complicated 
to the most simple : it is now a Triad, combining the Monad 
and the Duad, and partaking of the nature of both ; now a Tet- 



304 CHRISTIANITY AND 

rad, the form of perfection ; now a Decad, which, in combining 
the four former, involves, in its mystic nature, all the possible 
accordances of the universe.^ 

The psychology of the Pythagoreans was greatly modified 
by their physical, and still more, by their moral tenets. The 
soul was apidfxoQ kavTov kivGjv — a self-moving number or Monad, 
the copy (as we have seen) of that Infinite Monad which unfolds 
from its own incomprehensible essence all the relations of the 
universe. This soul has three elements, Reason {vovq), Intelli- 
gence {(jypvy), and Passion (dvfxog). The two last, man has in 
common with brutes, the first is his grand and peculiar charac- 
teristic. It has, hence, been argued that Pythagoras could not 
have held the doctrine of "transmigration." This clear separa- 
tion of man from the brute, by this signal endowment of rea- 
son, which is sempiternal, seems a refutation of those who charge 
him with the doctrine. 

In the department of morals, the legislator of Crotona found 
his appropriate sphere. In his use of numerical notation, moral 
good was essential unity — evil, essential plurality and division. 
In the fixed truths of mathematical abstractions he found the 
exemplars of social and personal virtue. The rule or law of 
all morality is resemblance to God ; that is, the return of num- 
ber to its root, to unity, '^ and virtue is thus a harmony. 

Thus have we, in Pythagoras, the dawn of an Idealist school ; 

for mathematics are founded upon abstractions, and there is 

consequently an intimate connection between mathematics and 

idealism. The relations of space, and number, and determinate 

form, are, like the relations of cause and effect, of phenomena 

and substance, perceptible only in thought; and the mind which 

has been disciplined to abstract thought by the study of 

mathematics, is prepared and disposed for purely metaphysical 

studies. "The looking into mathematical learning is a kind 

^ That is, I +24-3+4=10. There are intimations that the Pythagoreans 
regarded the Monad as God, the Duad as matter, the Triad as the complex 
phenomena of the world, the Tetrad as the completeness of all its relations, 
the Decad as the cosmos, or harmonious whole. 
" Aristotle, " Nichomachian Ethics," bk. i. ch. vi. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 305 

of prelude to the contemplation of real being."^ Therefore 
Plato inscribed over the door of his academy, " Let none but 
Geometricians enter here." To the mind thus disciplined in 
abstract thinking, the conceptions and ideas of reason have 
equal authority, sometimes even superior authority, to the per- 
ceptions of sense. 

Now if the testimony of both reason and sense, as given in 
consciousness, is accepted as of equal authority, and each facul- 
ty is regarded as, within its own sphere, a source of real, valid 
knowledge, then a consistent and harmonious system of Natu- 
ral Realism or Natural Dualism will be the result. If the tes- 
timony of sense is questioned and distrusted, and the mind is 
denied any immediate knowledge of the sensible world, and 
yet the existence of an external, world is maintained by various 
hypotheses and reasonings, the consequence v/ill be a species of 
Hypothetical Dualism or Cosmothetic Idealism. But if the affir- 
mations of reason, as to the unity of the cosmos, are alone ac- 
cepted, and the evidence of the senses, as to the variety and 
multiplicity of the world, is entirely disregarded, then we have 
a system of Absolute Idealism. Pythagoras regarded the har- 
mony w^hich pervades the diversified phenomena of the outer 
world as a manifestation of the unity of its eternal principle, or 
as the perpetual evolution of that unity, and the consequent 
tende?icy of his system was to depreciate the sensible. Follow- 
ing out this tendency, the Eleatics first neglected, and finally 
denied the variety of the universe — denied the real existence 
of the external world, and asserted an absolute metaphysical 
unity. 

Xenophaiies of Colophon, in Ionia (b.c. 616-516), was the 
founder of this celebrated school of Elea. He left Ionia, and 
arrived in Italy about the same time as Pythagoras, bringing 
with him to Italy his Ionian tendencies ; he there amalgamated 
them with Pythagorean speculations. 

Pythagoras had succeeded in fixing the attention of his 
countrymen on the harmony which pervades the material world, 
^ Alcinous, " Introduction to the Doctrines of Plato," ch. vii. 
20 



3o6 CHRISTIANITY AND 

and had taught them to regard that harmony as the manifesta- 
tion of the intelligence, and unity, and perfection of its eternal 
principle. Struck with this idea of harmony and of unity, 
Xenophanes, who was a poet, a rhapsodist, and therefore by 
native tendency, rather than by intellectual discipline, an Ideal- 
ist, begins already to attach more importance to unity than 
multiplicity in his philosophy of nature. He regards the testi- 
mony of reason as of more authority than the testimony of 
sense ; " and he holds badly enough the balance between the 
unity of the Pythagoreans and the variety which Heraclitus 
and the lonians had alone considered."^ 

We are not, however, to suppose that Xenophanes denied, 
entirely the existence oi plurality. " The great Rhapsodist of 
Truth " was guided by the spqptaneous intuitions of his mind 
(which seemed to partake of the character of an inspiration), 
to a clearer vision of the truth than were his successors of the 
same school by their discursive reasonings. " The One " of 
Xenophanes was clearly distinguished from the outward uni- 
verse (ra TToXXa) on the one hand, and from the '■'' non-ens^^ on 
the other. It was' his disciple, Parmenides, who imagined the 
logical necessity of identifying plurality with the '-''noji-ens^^ and 
thus denying all immediate cognition of the phenomenal world. 
The compactness and logical coherence of the system of Par- 
menides seems to have had a peculiar charm for the Grecian 
mind, and to have diverted the eyes of antiquity from the views 
of the more earnest and devout Xenophanes, whose opinions 
were too often confounded with those of his successors of the 
Eleatic school. " Accordingly we find that Xenophanes has 
obtained credit for much that is, exclusively, the property of 
Parmenides and Zeno, in particular for denying plurality, and 
for identifying God with the universe."^ 

In theology, Xenophanes was unquestionably a Theist. He 

^ Cousin, " History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 440. 

"^ See note by editor, W. H. Thompson, M.A., on pages 331, 332 of But- 
ler's " Lectures," vol. i. His authorities are " Fragments of Xenophanes " 
and the treatise " De Melisso, Xenophane, et Gorgia," by Aristotle. 



GREEK PEIL080PHT. 307 

had a profound and earnest conviction of the existence of a 
God, and he ridiculed with sarcastic force, the anthropomorphic 
absurdities of the popular religion. This one God, he taught, 
was self-existent, eternal, and infinite ; supreme in power, in 
goodness, and intelligence.^ These characteristics are ascribed 
to the Deity in the sublime words with which he opens his 
philosophic poem — 

*' There is one God, of all beings, divine and human, the greatest : 
Neither in body alike unto mortals, neither in mind." 

He has no parts, no organs, as men have, being 

" All sight, all ear, all intelligence ; 



Wholly exempt from toil, he sways all things by thought and will. 



»2 



Xenophanes also taught that God is "uncreated" or "un- 
caused," and that he is "excellent" as well as "all-powerful."^ 
And yet, regardless of these explicit utterances, Lewes cautions 
his readers against supposing that, by the " one God," Xeno- 
phanes meant a Personal God ; and he asserts that his Mono- 
theism was Pantheism. A doctrine, however, which ascribes 
to the Divine Being moral as well as intellectual supremacy, 
which acknowledges an outward world distinct from Him, and 
which represents Him as causing the changes in that universe 
by the acts of an intelligent volition, can only by a strange per- 
version of language be called pantheism. 

Parmenides of Elea (born B.C. 536) was the philosopher who 
framed the psychological opinions of the Idealist school into a 
precise and comprehensive system. He was the first carefully 
to distinguish between Truth {aXijdetar) and Opmwn (^o^av) — 
between ideas obtained through the reason and the simple per- 
ceptions of sense. Assuming that reason and sense are the 
only sources of knowledge, he held that they furnish the mind 
with two distinct classes of cognitions — one variable, fleeting, 

^ Lewes's " Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 38 ; Ritter's " His- 
tory of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. pp. 428, 429. 

^ Ritter's *' History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. pp. 432, 434. 

^ Butler's " Lectures," vol. i. p. 331, note ; Ritter's " History of Ancient 
Philosophy," vol. i. p. 428. 



3o8 CHRISTIANITY AND 

and uncertain; the other immutable, necessary, and eternal. 
Sense is dependent on the variable organization of the individ- 
ual, and therefore its evidence is changeable, uncertain, and 
nothing but a mere '■'' seemingr Reason is the same in all in- 
dividuals, and therefore its evidence is constant, real, and true. 
Philosophy is, therefore, divided into two branches — Physics 
and Metaphysics ; one, a science of absolute knowledge ; the 
other, a science of mere appearances. The first science, Phys- 
ics, is pronounced illusory and uncertain; the latter. Meta- 
physics, is infallible and immutable.^ 

Proceeding on these principles, he rejects the dualistic sys- 
tem of the universe, and boldly declared that all essences are 
fundamentally one — that, in fact, there is no real plurality, and 
that all the diversity which "appears" is merely presented 
under a peculiar aesthetic or sensible law. The senses, it is 
true, teach us that there are " many things," but reason affirms 
that, at bottom, there exists only "the one." Whatever, there- 
fore, manifests itself in the field of sense is merely illusory — 
the mental representation of a phenomenal world, which to ex- 
perience seems diversified, but which reason can not possibly 
admit to be other than "immovable" and "one." There is 
but one Being in the universe, eternal, immovable, absolute ; 
and of this unconditioned being all phenomenal existences, 
whether material or mental, are but the attributes and modes. 
Hence the two great maxims of the Eleatic school, derived 
from Parmenides — rk iravra ev, ''The All is One" and 7-0 aWb 
roEiv TE Kal dvuL (Idem est cogitare atque esse), ''Thought and 
Being a7'e identical." The last remarkable dictum is the fun- 
damental principle of the modern pantheistic doctrine of "ab- 
solute identity" as taught by Schelling and Hegel.^ 

Lewes asserts that ". Parmenides did not, with Xenophanes, 
call Uhe One' God; he called it Being."^ In support of this 
statement he, however, cites no ancient authorities. We are 

^ Ritter's " History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. pp. 447, 451. 

"^ Id., ib., vol. i. pp. 450, 455. 

^ " Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 50. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 309 

therefore justified in rejecting his opinion, and receiving the 
testimony of SimpHcius, " the only authority for the fragments 
of the Eleatics,"^ and who had a copy of the philosophic poems 
of Parmenides. He assures us that Parmenides and Xeno- 
phanes " affirmed that ' the Ofie^ or unity, was the first Princi- 
ple of all, .... they meaning by this One that highest or supreme 
God, as being the cause of unity to all things. "...." It re- 
maineth, therefore, that that Intelligence which is the cause of 
all things, and therefore of mind and understanding also, in 
which all things are comprehended in unity, was Parmenides' 
one Ens or Being. '"^ Parmenides was, therefore, a spiritualistic 
or idealistic Pantheist. 

Ze?io of Elea (born B.C. 500) was the logician of the Eleatic 
school. He was, says Diogenes Laertius, " the inventor of Di- 
alectics."^ Logic henceforth becomes the opyavov* — organon 
of the Eleatics. 

This organon, however, Zeno used very imperfectly. In his 
hands it was simply the " reductio ad absurdum " of opposing 
opinions as the means of sustaining the tenets of his own sect. 
Parmenides had asserted, on d priori grounds, the existence of 
"the One." Zeno would prove by his dialectic the non-exist- 
ence of " the many." His grand position was that all phe- 
nomena, all that appears to sense, is but a modificatioii of the 
absolute One. And he displays a vast amount of dialectic 
subtilty in the effort to prove that all " appearances " are un- 
real, and that all movement and change is a mere "seeming" 
— not a reality. What men call motion is only a name given 
to a series of conditions, each of which, considered separately, 
is rest. "Rest is force resistant; motion is force triumphant."^ 
The famous puzzle of "Achilles and the Tortoise," by which 
he endeavored to prove the unreality of motion, has been ren- 
dered familiar to the English reader." 

^ Encyclopaedia Britannica, article " Simplicius." 

^ Cudworth's "Intellectual System," vol. i. p. 511. 

^ "Lives," p. 387 (Bohn's edition). * Plato in "Parmen." 

^ Lewes's " Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 60. 

^ Ritter's " History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. pp. 475, 476. 



3IO CHRISTIANITY AND 

Aristotle assures us that Zeno, " by his one Ens, which nei- 
ther was moved nor movable, meaneth God." And he also in- 
forms us that "Zeno endeavored to demonstrate that there is 
but one God, from the idea which all men have of him, as that 
which is the best, supremest, most powerful of all, or an abso- 
lutely perfect being" (" De Xenophane, Zenone, et Gorgia").^ 

With Zeno we close our survey of the second grand line of 
independent inquiry by which philosophy sought to solve the 
problem of the universe. The reader will be struck with the 
resemblance which subsists between the history of its develop- 
ment and that of the modern Idealist school. Pythagoras was 
the Descartes, Parmenides the Spinoza, and Zeno the Hegel 
of the Italian school. 

In this survey of the speculations of the pre-Socratic schools 
of philosophy, we have followed the course of two opposite 
streams of thought which had their common origin in one fun- 
damental principle or law of the human mind — the intuition of 
unity — " or the desire to comprehend all the facts of the uni- 
verse in a single formula, and consummate all conditional 
knowledge in the unity of unconditioned existence." The his- 
tory of this tendency is, in fact, the history of all philosophy. 
" The end of all philosophy," says Plato, " is the intuition of 
unity." "All knowledge," said the Platonists, "is the gather- 
ing up into one."'' 

Starting from this fundamental idea, that^ beneath the endless 
flux and change of the visible universe, there must be a permane?it 
principle ofunity^ we have seen developed two opposite schools 
of speculative thought. As the traveller, standing on the ridges 
of the Andes, may see the head -waters of the great South 
American rivers mingling in one, so the student of philosophy, 
standing on the elevated plane of analytic thought, may dis- 
cover, in this fundamental principle, the common source of the 
two great systems of speculative thought which divided the 

* Cudworth's " Intellectual System," vol. i. p. 518. 

"^ Hamilton's " xMetaphysics," vol. i. pp. 67-70 (English edition). 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 311 

ancient world. Here are the head -waters of the sensational 
and the idealist schools. The Ionian school started its course 
of inquiry in the direction of sense ; it occupied itself solely 
with the phenomena of the external world, and it sought this 
principle of unity in 2i physical element. The Italian school 
started its course of inquiry in the direction of reason ; it occu- 
pied itself chiefly with rational conceptions or a priori ideas, 
and it sought this principle of unity in purely metaphysical 
being. And just as the Amazon and La Plata sweep on, in 
opposite directions, until they reach the extremities of the con- 
tinent, so these two opposite streams of thought rush onward, 
by the force of a logical necessity, until they terminate in the 
two Unitarian systems of Absolute Materialism and Absolute 
Idealism; and, in their theological aspects, in a pantheism 
which, on the one hand, identifies God with matter, or, on the 
other hand, swallows up the universe in God. 

The radical error of both these systems is at once apparent. 
The testimony of the primary faculties of the mind was not 
regarded as each, within its sphere, final and decisive. The 
duality of consciousness was not accepted in all its integrity ; 
one school rejected the testimony of reason, the other denied 
the veracity of the senses, and both prepared the way for the 
skepticisjn of the Sophists. 

We must not, however, lose sight of the fact that there were 
some philosophers of the pre-Socratic school, as Anaxagoras 
and Empedocles, who recognized the partial and exclusive 
character of both these systems, and sought, by a method 
which Cousin would designate as Eclecticism, to combine the 
element of truth contained in each. 

Anaxagoras of Clazomence (b.c. 500-428) added to the Ioni- 
an philosophy of a material element or elements the Il^lian 
idea of a spirit distinct from, and independent of the world, 
which has within itself the principle of a spontaneous activity 
— Nowc avroi:pary]Q, and which is the first cause of motion in the 
universe — apx)) rrjg Kivrfcreiog^ 

•■ Cousin, " History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 411. 



312 CHRISTIANITY AND 

In his physical theory, Anaxagoras was an Atomist. Instead 
of one element, he declared that the elements or first principles 
were numerous, or even infinite. No point in space is unoccu- 
pied by these atoms, which are infinitely divisible. He imag- 
ined that, in nature, there are as many kinds of principles as 
there are species of compound bodies, and that the peculiar 
form of the primary particles of which any body is composed 
is the same with the qualities of the compound body itself. 
This was the celebrated doctrine of Hovioeomeria^ of which Lu- 
cretius furnishes a luminous account in his philosophic poem 
"De Natura Rerum" — 

"That bone from bones 
Minute, and embryon ; nerve from nerves arise ; 
And blood from blood, by countless drops increased. 
Gold, too, from golden atoms, earths concrete, 
From earths extreme ; from fiery matters, fire ; 
And lymph from limpen dews. And thus throughout 
From primal kinds that kinds perpetual spring."^ 

These primary particles were regarded by Anaxagoras as eter- 
nal; because he held the dogma, peculiar to all the lonians, 
that nothing can be really created or annihilated (de nihilo ni- 
hil, in nihilum nil posse reverti). But he saw, nevertheless, 
that the simple existence of " inert " matter, even from eternity, 
could not explain the motion and the harmony of the fnaterial 
world. Hence he saw the necessity of another power — the 
power of Intelligefice, " All things were in chaos ; then came 
Intelligence and introduced Order. "^ 

Anaxagoras, unlike the pantheistic speculators of the Ionian 
school, rigidly separated the Supreme Intelligence from the 
material universe. "The Novc of Anaxagoras is a principle, 
infinite, independent (avroKpariQ), omnipresent (ev irdrrl Travrog 
fjioipq^evov), the subtilest and purest of things (XeTrTorarov ttclvtiov 
X9r}}xaTit)v Kai KaOapwrarov) ; and incapable of mixture with aught 
besides ; it is also omniscient {wavTa eyv(o), and unchangeable 
(TTctc dfjioloQ ea-Ti). — Simphcius, in " Arist. Phys." i. ^3-^ 

^ Good's translation, bk. i. p. 325. - Diogenes Laertius, "Lives," p. 59. 

^ Butler's " Lectures on Philosophy," vol. i. p. 305, note. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 313 

Thus did Anaxagoras bridge the chasm between the Ionian 
and the Italian schools. He accepted both doctrines with 
some modifications. He believed in the real existence of the 
phenomenal world, and he also believed in the real existence 
of " The Infinite Mind," whose Intelligence and Omnipotence 
were manifested in the laws and relations which pervade the 
world. He proclaimed the existence of the Infinite Intelligence 
("the One"), who was the Architect and Governor of the 
Infinite Matter ("the Many"). 

On the question as to the origin and certainty of human 
knowledge, Anaxagoras differed both from the lonians and the 
Eleatics. Neither the sense alone, nor the reason alone, were 
for him a ground of certitude. He held that reason {Xoyoo) 
was the regulative faculty of the mind, as the Nouc, or Supreme 
Intelligence, was the regulative power of the universe. And 
he admitted that the senses were veracious in their reports; 
but they reported only in regard to phenomena. The senses, 
then, perceive phenomena^ but it is the reason alone which rec- 
ognizes noiL7nena^ that is, the reason perceives being in and 
through phenomena, substance in and through qualities ; an 
anticipation of the fundamental principle of modern psychology 
— " that every power or substance in existence is kfzowable to us, 
so far only, as we know its phenomena.''^ Thus, again, does he 
bridge the chasm that separates between the Sensationalist 
and the Idealist. The lonians relied solely on the intuitions 
of sense ; the Eleatics accepted only the apperceptions of pure 
reason ; he accepted the testimony of both, and in the synthe- 
sis of subject and object — the union of an element supplied by 
sensation, and an element supplied by reason, he found real, 
certain knowledge. 

The harmony which the doctrine of Anaxagoras introduced 
into the philosophy of Athens, soon attracted attention and 
multiplied disciples. He was teaching when Socrates arrived 
in Athens, and the latter attended his school. The influence 
which the doctrine of Anaxagoras exerted upon the mind of 
Socrates (leading him to recognize Intelligence as the cause 



314 CHRISTIANITY AND 

of order and special adaptation in the universe)/ and also upon 
the course of philosophy in the Socratic schools, is the most 
enduring memorial of his name.^ 

We have devoted a much larger space than we originally 
designed to the ante-Socratic schools — quite out of proportion, 
indeed, with that we shall be able to appropriate to their suc- 
cessors. But inasmuch as all the great primary problems of 
thought, which are subsequently discussed by Plato and Aris- 
totle, were started, and received, at least, typical answers in 
those schools, we can not hope to understand Plato, or Aris- 
totle, or even Epicurus, or Zeno of Cittium, unless we have first 
mastered the doctrines of Heraclitus, Pythagoras, Parmenides, 
and Anaxagoras.® The attention we have bestowed on these 
early thinkers will, therefore, have been a valuable preparatory 
discipline for the study of 

II. THE SOCRATIC SCHOOL. 

The first cycle of philosophy was now complete. That form 
of Grecian speculative thought which, during the first period of 
its development, was a philosophy of nature, had reached its 
maturity ; it had sought "the first principles of all things" in the 
study of external nature, and had signally failed. In this pur- 
suit of first principles as the basis of a true and certain knowl- 
edge of the system of the universe, the two leading schools had 
been carried to opposite poles of thought. One had asserted 
that experience alone, the other, that reason alone was the 
sole criterion of truth. As the last consequence of this im- 
perfect method, Leucippus had denied the existence of " the 
one," and Zeno had denied the existence of "the many." 
The Ionian school, in Democritus, had landed in Materialism ; 
the Italian, in Parmenides, had ended in Pantheism ; and, as 
the necessary result of this partial and defective method of in- 
quiry, which ended in doubt and contradiction, a spirit of gen- 

^ " Phaedo," § 105. ^ Aristotle's " Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. iii. 

^ Maurice's "Ancient Philosophy," p. 114; Butler's "Lectures on Ancient 
Philosophy," vol. ii. pp. 87, 88. 



QREEK PHILOSOPHY. 315 

eral skepticism was generated in the Athenian mind. If doubt 
be cast upon the veracity of the primary cognitive faculties of 
the mind, the flood-gates of universal skepticism are opened. 
If the senses are pronounced to be mendacious and illusory in 
their reports regarding external phenomena, and if the intui- 
tions of the reason, in regard to the ground and cause of phe- 
nomena, are delusive, then we have no ground of certitude. If 
one faculty is unveracious and unreliable, how can we deter- 
mine that the other is not equally so ? There is, then, no such 
thing as universal and necessary truth. Truth is variable and 
uncertain, as the variable opinion of each individual. 

The Sophists, who belonged to no particular school, laid 
hold on the elements of skepticism contained in both the pre- 
Socratic schools of philosophy, and they declared that " the 
<To0/a " was not only unattainable, but that no relative degree 
of it was possible for the human faculties.^ Protagoras of Ab- 
dera accepted the doctrine of Heraclitus, that thought is iden- 
tical with sensation, and limited by it ; he therefore declared 
that there is no criterion of truth, and ^^MaJt is the measure of 
all things? Sextus Empiricus gives the psychological opinions 
of Protagoras with remarkable explicitness. " Matter is in a 
perpetual flux, whilst it undergoes augmentations and losses ; 
the senses also are modified according to the age and dispo- 
sition of the body. He said, also, that the reason of all phe- 
nomena resides in matter as substrata, so that matter, in itself, 
might be whatever it appeared to each. But men have differ- 
ent perceptions at different periods, according to the changes 
in the things perceived. . . . Man is, therefore, the criterion 
of that which exists ; all that is perceived by him exists ; that 
which is perceived by no ma7i does not exist. ''''^ These conclusions 
were rigidly and fearlessly applied to ethics and political sci- 
ence. If there is no Eternal Truth, there can be no Immutable 

' Encyclopaedia Britannica, article " Sophist." 

'^ Plato's "Theaetetus" {avQqi^'Koq — "the individual is the measure of all 
things"), vol. i. p. 381 (Bohn's edition). 

^ Lewes's "Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 117. 



3l6 • CHRISTIANITY AND 

Right. The distinction of right and wrong is solely a matter 
of human opinion and conventional usage.^ "That which ap- 
pears just and honorable to each city, is so for that city, so long 
as the opinion prevails."^ 

There were others who laid hold on the weapons which Zeno 
had prepared to their hands. He had asserted that all the ob- 
jects of sense were mere phantoms — delusive and transitory. 
By the subtilties of dialectic quibbling, he had attempted to 
prove that "change" meant "permanence," and "motion" 
meant "rest."^ Words may, therefore, have the most opposite 
and contradictory meanings ; and all language and all opinion 
may, by such a process, be rendered uncertain. One opinion 
is, consequently, for the individual, just as good as another; and 
all opinions are equally true and untrue. It was nevertheless 
desirable, for the good of society, that there should be some 
agreement, and that, for a time at least, certain opinions should 
prevail ; and if philosophy had failed to secure this agree- 
ment, rhetoric, at least, was effectual ; and, with the Sophist, 
rhetoric was " the art of making the worst appear the better 
reason." All wisdom was now confined to a species of " word 
jugglery," which in Athens was dignified as " the art of dispu- 
tation." 

Socrates (b.c. 469-399), the grand central figure in the 
group of ancient philosophers, arrived in Athens in the midst 
of this general skepticism. He had an invincible faith in truth. 
" He made her the mistress of his soul, and with patient labor, 
and unwearied energy, did his great and noble soul toil after 
perfect communion with her." He was disappointed and dis- 
satisfied with the results that had been reached by the methods 
of his predecessors, and he was convinced that by these meth- 
ods the problem of the universe could not be solved. He 
therefore turned away from physical inquiries, and devoted his 

' " Gorgias," § 85-89. ^ Plato's " Thesetetus," § 65-75. 

^ " And do we not know that the Eleatic Palamedes (Zeno) spoke by art 
in such a manner that the same things appeared to be similar and dissimilar, 
one and many, at rest and in motion V — " Phaedrus," § 97. 



GREEK FEILOSOPHY. 317 

whole attention to the study of the human mind, its funda- 
mental beliefs, ideas, and laws. If he can not penetrate the 
mysteries of the outer world, he will turn his attention to the 
world within. He will " know himself," and find within him- 
self the reason, and ground, and law of all existence. There 
he discovered certain truths which can not possibly be ques- 
tioned. He felt he had within his own heart a faithful monitor 
— a conscience^ which he regarded as the voice of God.^ He 
believed "he had a divine teacher with him at all times. 
Though he did not possess wisdom, this teacher could put him 
on the road to seek it, could preserve him from delusions 
which might turn him out of the way, could keep his mind 
fixed upon the end for which he ought to act and live."^ In 
himself, therefore, he sought that ground of certitude which 
should save him from the prevailing skepticism of his times. 
The Delphic inscription, VvhiQi (reavTov, " know thyself ^^ becomes 
henceforth the fundamental maxim of philosophy. 

Truth has a rational, d priori foundation in the constitution 
of the human mind. There are ideas connatural to the human 
reason which are the copies of those archetypal ideas which 
belong to the Eternal Reason. The grand problem of philoso- 
phy, therefore, now is — What are these fundamental ideas which 
are unchangeable and permanent, amid all the diversities of human 
opinion, connecting appearance with reality, and constituting a 
ground of certain knowledge or absolute truth .? Socrates may 

^ The Daemon of Socrates has been the subject of much discussion among 
learned men. The notion, once generally received, that his daijiov was " a 
familiar genius," is now regarded as an exploded error. " Nowhere does 
Socrates, in Plato or Xenophon, speak oia genius or demon, but always of 
a dcemoniac something (to daLjiovtov, or dacfioviov rt), or of a sign, a voice, a 
divifze sign, a divine voice^'' (Lewes's ** Biographical History of Philosophy," 
p. 166). " Socrates always speaks of a divine or supernatural somewhat 
('divinum quiddam,' as Cicero has it), the nature of which he does not at- 
tempt to divine, and to which he never attributes personality" (Butler's 
"Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. p. 357). The' scholar need not to 
be informed that to SaifiovLov, in classic literature, means the divine Essence 
(Lat. numen), to which are attributed events beyond man's power, yet not 
to be assigned to any special god. 

"^ Maurice's "Ancient Philosophy," p. 124. 



3l8 CHRISTIANITY AND 

not have held the doctrine of ideas as exhibited by Plato, but 
he certainly believed that there were germs of truth latent in 
the human mind — principles which governed, unconsciously, 
the processes of thought, and that these could be developed by 
reflection and by questioning. These were embryonate in the 
womb of reason, coming to the birth, but needing the " maieu- 
tic " or " obstetric " art, that they might be brought forth. ^ He 
would, therefore, become the accoucheur of ideas, and deliver 
minds of that secret truth which lay in their mental constitu- 
tion. And thus Psychology becomes the basis of all legitimate 
metaphysics. 

By the general consent of antiquity, as well as by the con- 
current judgment of all modern historians of philosophy, Soc- 
rates is regarded as having effected a complete revolution in 
philosophic thought, and, by universal consent, he is placed at 
the commencement of a new era in philosophy. Schleier- 
macher has said, " the service which Socrates rendered to phi- 
losophy consisted not so much in the truths arrrived at as in 
the METHOD by which truth is sought J^ As Bacon inaugurated 
a new method in physical inquiry, so Socrates inaugurated a 
new method in metaphysical inquiry. 

What, then, was this new method? It was no other than the 
inductive method applied to the facts of consciousness. This 
method is thus defined by Aristotle : " Induction is the proc- 
ess from particulars to generals ;" that is, it is the process of 
discovering laws from facts, causes from effects, being from 
phenomena. But how is this process of induction conducted ? 
By observing and enumerating the real facts which are present- 
ed in consciousness, by noting their relations of resemblance 
or difference, and by classifying these facts by the aid of these 
relations. In other words, it is analysis applied to the phe- 
nomena of mind.'' Now Socrates gave this method of psycho- 
logical analysis to Greek philosophy. " There are two things 
of which Socrates must justly be regarded as the author, — the 

' riato's "Theaetetus," § 22. 

^ Cousin's "Lectures on the History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 30. 



GBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 319 

inductive reasoning and abstract definition} We readily grant 
that Socrates employed this methoa imperfectly, for methods 
are the last things perfected in science ; but still, the Socratic 
movement was a vast movement in the right direction. 

In what are usually regarded as the purely Socratic dia- 
logues,' Plato evidently designs to exhibit this method of Soc- 
rates. They proceed continually on the firm conviction that 
there is a standard or criterion of truth in the reason of man, 
and that, by reflection, man can apprehend and recognize the 
truth. To awaken this power of reflection ; to compel men to 
analyze their language and their thoughts ; to lead them from 
the particular and the contingent, to the universal and the nec- 
essary ; and to teach them to test their opinions by the inward 
standard of truth, was the aim of Socrates. These dialogues 
are a picture of the conversations of Socrates. They are liter- 
ally an education of the thinking faculty. Their purpose is to 
discipline men to think for themselves, rather than to furnish 
opinions for them. In many of these dialogues Socrates affirms 
nothing. After producing many arguments, and examining a 
question on all sides, he leaves it undetermined. At the close 
of the dialogue he is as far from a declaration of opinions as at 
the commencement. His grand effort, like that of Bacon's, is 
to furnish men a correct method of inquiry, rather than to apply 
that method and give them results. 

We must not, however, from thence conclude that Socrates 
did not himself attain any definite conclusions, or reach any 
specific and valuable results. When, in reply to his friends who 
reported the answer of the oracle of Delphi, that " Socrates was 
the wisest of men," he said, " he supposed the oracle declared 
him wise because he knew nothiftg". he did not mean that true 
knowledge was unattainable, to his whole life had been spent 
in efforts to attain it. He simply indicates the disposition of 
mind which is most befitting and most helpful to the seeker 

^ Aristotle's " Metaphysics," vol. xii. ch. iv. p. 359 (Bohn's edition). 
^ " Laches," " Charmides," " Lysis," " The Rivals," " First and Second 
Alcibiades," " Theages," " Clitophon." See Whewell's translation, vol. i. 



320 CHRISTIANITY AND 

after truth. He must be conscious of his own ignorance. He 
must not exalt himself. He must not put his own conceits in 
the way of the thing he would know. He must have an open 
eye, a single purpose, an honest mind, to prepare him to receive 
light when it comes. And that there is -light, that there is a 
source whence light comes, he avowed in every word and act. 

Socrates unquestionably believed in one Supreme God, the 
immaterial, infinite Governor of all. He cherished that in- 
stinctive, spontaneous faith in God and his Providence which 
is the universal faith of the human heart. He saw this faith 
revealed in the religious sentiments of all nations, and in the 
tendency to worship so universally characteristic of humanity.* 
He appealed to the consciousness of absolute dependence — 
the persuasion, wrought by God in the minds of all men, that 
" He is able to make men happy or miserable," and the conse- 
quent sense of obligation which teaches man he ought to obey 
God. And he regarded with some degree of affectionate ten- 
derness the common sentiment of his countrymen, that the Di- 
vine Government was conducted through the ministry of subor- 
dinate deities or generated gods. But he sought earnestly to 
prevent the presence of these subordinate agents from inter- 
cepting the clear view of the Supreme God. 

The faith of Socrates was not, however, grounded on mere 
feeling and sentiment. He endeavored to place the knowledge 
of God on a rational basis. We can not read the arguments 
he employed without being convinced that he anticipated all 
the subsequent writers on Natural Theology in his treatment 
of the argument from special ends ox final causes. We venture 
to abridge the account which is given by Xenophon of the con- 
versation with Aristodemus •?' 

" I will now relate the manner in which I once heard Socra- 
tes discoursing with Aristodemus concerning the Deity ; for, 
observing that he never prayed nor sacrificed to the gods, but, 
on the contrary, ridiculed those who did, he said to him : 

" ' Tell me, Aristodemus, is there any man you admire on 
* " Memorabilia," bk. i. ch. iv. § i6. "^ Ibid, bk. i. ch. iv. 



GRJEEK PHILO'SOPHT. 321 

account of his merits?' Aristodemus having answered, 'Many,' 
— ' Name some of them, I pray you,' said Socrates. * I admire,' 
said Aristodemus, * Homer for his Epic poetry, Melanippides 
for his dithyrambics, Sophocles for his tragedy, Polycletus for 
statuary, and Zeuxis for painting.' 

"'But which seemed to you most worthy of admiration, 
Aristodemus — the artist who forms images void of motion and 
intelligence, or one who has skill to produce animals that are 
endued, not only with activity, but understanding ?' 

"'The latter, there can be no doubt,' replied Aristodemus, 
' provided the production was not the effect of chance, but of 
wisdom and contrivance.' 

" ' But since there are many things, some of which we can 
easily see the use of, while we can not say of others to what 
purpose they are produced, which of these, Aristodemus, do 
you suppose the work of wisdom ?' 

"'It would seem the most reasonable to affirm it of those 
whose fitness and utility are so evidently apparent,' answered 
Aristodemus. 

" ' But it is evidently apparent that He who, at the beginning, 
made man, endued him with senses because they were good for 
him ; eyes wherewith to behold what is visible, and ears to hear 
whatever was heard j for, say, Aristodemus, to what purpose 
should odor be prepared, if the sense of smelling had been de- 
nied ? or why the distinction of bitter or sweet, of savory or un- 
savory, unless a palate had been likewise given, conveniently 
placed to arbitrate between them and proclaim the difference ? 
Is not that Providence, Aristodemus, in a most eminent manner 
conspicuous, which, because the eye of a man is so delicate 
in its contexture, hath therefore prepared eyelids like doors 
whereby to secure it, which extend of themselves whenever it 
is needful, and again close when sleep approaches ? Are not 
these eyelids provided, as it were, with a fence on the edge of 
them to keep off the wind and guard the eye ? Even the eye- 
brow itself is not without its office, but, as a penthouse, is pre- 
pared to turn off the sweat, which falling from the forehead 

21 



322 CHRISTIANITY AND 

might enter and annoy that no less tender than astonishing 
part of us. Is it not to be admired that the ears should take 
in sounds of every sort, and yet are not too much filled with 
them ? That the fore teeth of the animal should be formed in 
such a manner as is evidently best for cutting, and those on the 
side for grinding it to pieces ? That the mouth, through which 
this food is conveyed, should be placed so near the nose and 
eyes as to prevent the passing unnoticed whatever is unfit for 

nourishment ? And canst thou still doubt, Aristodemus, 

whether a disposition of parts like this should be a work of chance , 
or of wisdom and contrivance V 

" ' I have no longer any doubt,' replied Aristodemus ; ' and, 
indeed, the more I consider it, the more evident it appears to 
me that man must be the masterpiece of some great Artificer, 
carrying along with it infinite marks of the love and favor of 
Him who hath thus formed it.' 

"'But, further (unless thou desirest to ask me questions), 
seeing, Aristodemus, thou thyself art conscious of reason and 
intelligence, supposest thou there is no intelligence elsewhere t 
Thou knowest thy body to be a small part of that wide-extended 
earth thou everywhere beholdest ; the moisture contained in it 
thou also knowest to be a portion of that mighty mass of waters 
whereof seas themselves are but a part, while the rest of the 
elements contribute out of their abundance to thy formation. 
It is the soul^ then, alone, that intellectual part of us, which is 
come to thee by some lucky chance, from I know not where. If 
so, there is no intelligence elsewhere ; and we must be forced to 
confess that this stupendous universe, with all the various bod- 
ies contained therein — equally amazing, whether we consider 
their magnitude or number, whatever their use, whatever their 
order — all have been produced by chance, not by intelligence !' 

" • It is with difficulty that I can suppose otherwise,' returned 
Aristodemus; *for I behold none of those gods whom you 
speak of as framing and governing the world ; whereas I see 
the artists when at their work here among us.' 

" * Neither yet seest thou thy soul, Aristodemus, which, how- 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 323 

ever, most assuredly governs thy body ; although it may well 
seem, by thy manner of talking, that it is chance and not rea- 
son which governs thee.' 

"M do not despise the gods,' said Aristodemus; *on the 
contrary, I conceive so highly of their excellency, as to suppose 
they stand in no need of me or of my services.' 

" ' Thou mistakest the matter,' Aristodemus ; ' the great mag- 
nificence they have shown in their care of thee, so much the 
more honor and service thou owest them.' 

" ' Be assured,' said Aristodemus, ' if I once could persuade 
myself the gods take care of man, I should want no monitor to 
remind me of my duty.' 

" ' And canst thou doubt, Aristodemus, if the gods take care 
of man ? Hath not the glorious privilege of walking upright 
been alone bestowed on him, whereby he may with the better 
advantage survey what is around him, contemplate with more 
ease those splendid objects which are above, and avoid the nu- 
merous ills and inconveniences which would otherwise befall 
him ? Other animals, indeed, they have provided with feet ; 
but to man they have also given hands, with which he can form 
many things for use, and make himself happier than creatures 
of any other kind. A tongue hath been bestowed on every 
other animal ; but what animal, except man, hath the power of 
forming words with it whereby to explain his thoughts and 
make them intelligible to others ? But it is not with respect to 
the body alone that the gods have shown themselves bountiful 
to man. Their most excellent gift is that of a soul they have 
infused into him, which so far surpasses what is elsewhere to be 
found ; for by what animal except man is even the existence 
of the gods discovered, who have produced and still uphold in 
such regular order this beautiful and stupendous frame of the 
universe ? What other creature is to be found that can serve 

and adore them ? In thee, Aristodemus, has been joined 

to a wonderful soul a body no less wonderful ; and sayest thou, 
after this, the gods take no thought for me? What wouldst 
thou, then, more to convince thee of their care ?' 



324 CHEISTIANITT AND 

" ' I would they should send and inform me,' said Aristode- 
mus, 'what things I ought or ought not to do, in like manner 
as thou sayest they frequently do to thee.' " 

In reply, Socrates shows that the revelations of God which 
are made in nature, in history, in consciousness, and by oracles, 
are made for all men and to all men. He then concludes 
with these remarkable words : " As, therefore, amongst men we 
make best trial of the affection and gratitude of our neighbor 
by showing him kindness, and make discovery of his wisdom 
by consulting him in our distress, do thou, in like manner, be- 
have towards the gods ; and if thou wouldst experience what 
their wisdom and their love, render thyself deserving of some 
of those divine secrets which may not be penetrated by man, 
and are imparted to those alone who consult, who adore, and 
who obey the Deity. Then shalt thou, my Aristodemus, under- 
stand there is a Being whose eye passes through all nature^ and 
whose ear is open to every sound ; extended to all places^ extending 
through all time ; atid whose bou7ity and care can know no other 
hounds than those fixed by his own creatioJiJ^^ 

Socrates was no less earnest in his belief in the immortality 
of the soul, and a state of future retribution. He had reve- 
rently listened to the intuitions of his own soul — the instinctive 
longings and aspirations of his own heart, as a revelation from 
God. He felt that all the powers and susceptibilities of his in- 
ward nature were in conscious adaptation to the idea of im- 
mortality, and that its realization was the appropriate destiny 
of man. He was convinced that a future life was needed to 
avenge the wrongs and reverse the unjust judgments of the 
present life f needed that virtue may receive its meet reward, 
and the course of Providence may have its amplest vindication. 
He saw this faith reflected in the universal convictions of man- 
kind, and the "common traditions" of all ages.' No one re- 
fers more frequently than Socrates to the grand old mythologic 
stories which express this faith ; to Minos, and Rhadamanthus, 

* Lewes's translation, in "Biog. History of Philosophy," pp. 160-165. 
= " Apology," § 32, p. 329 ( Whewell's edition). ^ Ibid. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 325 

and ^acus, and Triptolemus, who are "real judges," and who^ 
in " the Place of Departed Spirits, administer justicey^ He 
believed that in that future state the pursuit of wisdom would 
be his chief employment, and he anticipated the pleasure of 
mingling in the society of the wise, and good, and great of 
every age. 

Whilst, then, Socrates was not the first to teach the doctrine 
of immortality, because no one could be said to have first dis- 
covered it any more than to have first discovered the existence 
of a God, he was certainly the first to place it upon a philo- 
sophic basis. The Phaedo presents the doctrine and the rea- 
soning by which Socrates had elevated his mind above the fear 
of death. Some of the arguments may be purely Platonic, the 
argument especially grounded on " ideas j" still, as a whole, it 
must be regarded as a tolerably correct presentation of the 
manner in which Socrates would prove the immortality of the 
soul. 

In Ethics^ Socrates was pre-eminently himself The system- 
atic resolution of the whole theory of society into the element- 
ary principle of natural law, was peculiar to him. Justice was 
the cardinal principle which must lie at the foundation of all 
good government. The word ao^ia — wisdom — included all 
excellency in personal morals, whether as manifested (reflect- 
ively) in the conduct of one's self, or (socially) towards others. 
And Happiness^ in its purity and perfection, can only be found 
in virtuous action.'"* 

Socrates left nothing behind him that could with propriety 
be called a school. His chief glory is that he inaugurated a 
new method of inquiry, which, in Plato and Aristotle, we shall 
see applied. He gave a new and vital impulse to human 
thought, which endured for ages ; " and he left, as an inherit- 
ance for humanity, the example of a heroic life devoted wholly 
to the pursuit of truth, and crowned with martyrdom." 

^"Apology," p. 330. 

^ Butler's " Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. pp. 360, 361. 



326 CHRISTIANITY AND 



CHAPTER X. 

THE PHILOSOPHERS OF ATHENS {cOfltimied). 
THE SOCRATIC SCHOOL {continued). 

PLATO. 

WE have seen that the advent of Socrates marks a new 
era in the history of speculative thought. Greek phi- 
losophy, which at first was a philosophy of nature, now changes 
its direction, its character, and its method, and becomes a phi- 
losophy of mind. This, of course, does not mean that now it 
had mind alone for its object; on the contrary, it tended, as 
indeed philosophy must always tend, to the conception of a 
rational ideal or iiitellectual system of the universe. It started 
from the phenomena of mind, began with the study of human 
thought, and it made the knowledge of mind, of its ideas and 
laws, the basis of a higher philosoph}^, which should interpret 
all nature. In other words, it proceeded from psychology, 
through dialectics, to ontology.^ 

This new movement we have designated in general terms 
as the Socratic School. Not that we are to suppose that, in any 
technical sense, Socrates founded a school. The Academy, 
the Lyceum, the Stoa, and the Garden, were each the chosen 
resort of distinct philosophic sects, the locality of separate 
schools ; but Athens itself, the whole city, was the scene of 
the studies, the conversations, and the labors of Socrates. He 
wandered through the streets absorbed in thought. Sometimes 
he stood still for hours lost in profoundest meditation ; at other 
times he might be seen in the market-place, surrounded by a 
crowd of Athenians, eagerly discussing the great questions of 
the day. 

^ Cousin's " Lectures on the History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 413. 



GREEK FHILOSOFRT. 327 

Socrates, then, was not, in the usual sense of the word, a 
teacher. He is not to be found in the Stoa or the Grove, with 
official aspect, expounding a system of doctrine. He is " the 
garrulous oddity" of the streets, putting the most searching 
and perplexing questions to every bystander, and making every 
man conscious of his ignorance. He delivered no lectures ; 
he simply talked. He wrote no books ; he only argued : and 
what is usually styled his school must be understood as em- 
bracing those who attended him in public as listeners and 
admirers, and who caught his spirit, adopted his philosophic 
method^ and, in after life, elaborated and systematized the ideas 
they had gathered from him. 

Among the regular or the occasional hearers of Socrates 
were many who were little addicted to philosophic speculation. 
Some were warriors, as Nicias and Laches ; some statesmen, 
as Critias and Critobulus ; some were politicians, in the worst 
sense of that word, as Glaucon ; and some were young men of 
fashion, as Euthydemus and Alcibiades. These were all alike 
delighted with his inimitable irony, his versatility of genius, his 
charming modes of conversation, his adroitness of reply ; and 
they were compelled to confess the wisdom and justness of his 
opinions, and to admire the purity and goodness of his life. 
The magic power which he wielded, even over men of dissolute 
character, is strikingly depicted by Alcibiades in his speech at 
" the Banquet.'" Of these listeners, however, we can not now 
speak. Our business is with those only who imbibed his phil- 
osophic spirit, and became the future teachers of philosoph3^ 
And even of those who, as Euclid of Megara, and Antisthenes 
the Cynic, and Aristippus of Cyrenaica, borrowed somewhat 
from the dialectic of Socrates, we shall say nothing. They left 
no lasting impression upon the current of philosophic thought, 
because their systems were too partial, and narrow, and frag- 
mentary. It is in Plato and Aristotle that the true develop- 
ment of the Socratic philosophy is to be sought, and in Plato 
chiefly, as the disciple and friend of Socrates. 
^"Banquet," §§39, 40. 



328 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Plato (b.c. 430-347) was pre-eminently the pupil of Socra- 
tes. He came to Socrates when he was but twenty years of 
age, and remained with him to the day of his death. 

Diogenes Laertius reports the story of Socrates having 
dreamed he found an unfledged cygnet on his knee. In a few 
moments it became winged and flew away, uttering a sweet 
sound. The next day a young man came to him who was said 
to reckon Solon among his near ancestors, and who looked, 
through him, to Codrus and the god Poseidon. That }^oung 
man was Plato, and Socrates pronounced him to be the bird 
he had seen in his dream. ^ 

Some have supposed that this old tradition intimates that 
Plato departed from the method of his master — he became 
fledged, and flew away into the air. But we know that Plato 
did not desert his master whilst he was living, and there is no 
evidence that he abandoned his method after he was dead. 
He was the best expounder and the most rigid observer of the 
Socratic "organon." The influence of Socrates upon the phi- 
losophy of Plato is everywhere discernible. Plato had been 
taught by Socrates, that beyond the world of sense there is a 
world of eternal truth, seen by the eye of reason alone. He 
had also learned from him that the eye of reason is purified 
and strengthened by reflection, and that to reflect is to observe, 
and analyze, and define, and classify the facts of consciousness. 
Self-reflection, then, he had been taught to regard as the key 
of real knowledge. By a completer induction, a more careful 
and exact analysis, and a more accurate definition, he carried 
this philosophic method forward towards maturity. He sought 
to solve the problem of being by the principles revealed in his 
own consciousness, and in the ultimate ideas of the reason to 
find the foundation of all real knowledge, of all truth, and of 
all certitude. 

Plato was admirably fitted for these sublime investigations 
by the possession of those moral qualities which were so promi 
nent in the character of his master. He had that same deep 
* Diogenes Laertius, "Lives of the Philosophers," bk. iii. ch. vii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 329 

seriousness of spirit, that earnestness and rectitude of purpose, 
that longing after truth, that inward sympathy with, and reve- 
rence for justice, and purity, and goodness, which dwelt in the 
heart of Socrates, and which constrained him to believe in their 
reality and permanence. He could not endure the thought 
that all ideas of right were arbitrary and factitious, that all 
knowledge was unreal, that truth was a delusion, and certainty 
a dream. The world of sense might be fleeting and delusive, 
but the voice of reason and conscience would not mislead the 
upright man. The opinions of individual men migl^j; vary, but 
the universal consciousness of the race could not prevaricate. 
However conflicting the opinions of men concerning beautiful 
things, right actions, and good sentiments, Plato was persuaded 
there are ideas of Order, and Right, and Good, which are uni- 
versal, unchangeable, and eternal. Untruth, injustice, and 
wrong may endure for a day or two, perhaps for a century or 
two, but they can not always last ; they must perish. The Just 
thing and the true thing are the only enduring things ; these 
are eternal. Plato had a sublime conviction that his mission 
was to draw the Athenian mind away from the fleeting, the 
transitor}^, and the uncertain, and lead them to the contempla- 
tion of an Eternal Truth, an Eternal Justice, an Eternal Beauty, 
all proceeding from and united in an Eternal Being — the ulti- 
mate ayadov — the Stipremely Good. The knowledge of this 
" Supreme Good" he regarded as the highest science.^ 

Added to these moral qualifications, Plato had the further 
qualification of a comprehensive knowledge of all that had 
been achieved by his predecessors. In this regard he had 
enjoyed advantages superior to those of Socrates. Socrates 
was deficient in erudition, properly so called. He had studied 
men rather than books. His wisdom consisted in an extensive 
observation^ the results of which he had generalized with more 
or less accuracy. A complete philosophic method demands 
not only a knowledge of contemporaneous opinions and modes 
of thought, but also a knowledge of the succession and devel- 
^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xvi. p. 193. 



330 CHRISTIANITY AND 

opment of thought in past ages. Its instrument is not simply 
psychological analysis, but also historical analysis as a counter- 
proof.' And this erudition Plato supplied. He studied. care- 
fully the doctrines of the Ionian, Italian, and Eleatic schools. 
Cratylus gave him special instruction in the theories of Herac- 
litus.* He secured an intimate acquaintance with the lofty 
speculations of Pythagoras, under Archytas of Tarentum, and 
in the writings of Philolaus, whose books he is said to have 
purchased. He studied the principles of Parmenides under 
Hermogeues,' and he more than once speaks of Parmenides in 
terms of admiration, as one whom he had early learned to rev- 
erence.* He studied mathematics under Theodorus, the most 
eminent geometrician of his day. He travelled in Southern 
Italy, in Sicily, and, in search of a deeper wisdom, he pursued 
his course to Egypt. ^ Enriched by the fruits of all previous 
speculations, he returned to Athens, and devoted the remainder 
of his life to the development of a comprehensive system 
"which was to combine, to conciliate, and to supersede them 
all."® The knowledge he had derived from travel, from books, 
from oral instruction, he fused and blended with his own spec- 
ulations, whilst the Socratic spirit mellowed the whole, and 
gave to it a unity and scientific completeness Vv'hich has excited 
the admiration and wonder of succeeding ages.'^ 

The question as to the nature^ the sources, ajid the validity of 
human k7iowledge had attracted general attention previous. to 
the time of Socrates and Plato. As the results of this pro- 
tracted controversy, the opinions of philosophers had finally 
crystallized in two well-defined and opposite theories of knowl- 
edge. 

I, That which reduced all knowledge to the accidental and 

^ Cousin's "Lectures on the History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 31. 

^ Aristotle's "Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. vi. 

^ Diogenes Laertius, "Lives of the Philosophers," bk. iii. ch. viii. p. 115. 

^ See especially " Theaetetus," § loi. 

^ Ritter's " History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 147. 

" Butler's " Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 22. 

'' Encyclopaedia Eritannica, article " Plato." 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 331 

passively receptive quality of the organs of sense, and which 
asserted, as its fundamental maxim, that "Science consists in 
aiadr](nc — sensation."^ 

This doctrine had its foundation in the physical philosophy 
of Heraclitus. He had taught that all things are in a perpetual 
flux and change. " Motion gives the appearance of existence 
and of generation." " Nothing is, but is always a becoming.'"'^ 
Material substances are perpetually losing their identity, and 
there is no permanent essence or being to be found. Hence 
Protagoras inferred that truth must vary with the ever-varying 
sensations of the individual. " Man (the individual) is the 
measure of all things." Knowledge is a piirely relative thing, 
and every man's opinion is truth for him.^ The law of right, 
as exemplified in the dominion of a party, is the law of the 
strongest ; fluctuating with the accidents of power, and never 
attaining a permanent being. " Whatever a city enacts as ap- 
pearing just to itself, this also is just to the city that enacts it, 
so long as it continues in force."* *'The just, then, is nothing 
else but that which is expedient for the strongest."^ 

2. The second theory is that which'denies the existence (ex- 
cept as phantasms, images, or mere illusions of the mind) of 
the whole of sensible phenomena, and refers all knowledge to 
the rational apperception of unity {to Iv) or the One. 

This was the doctrine of the later Eleatics. The world of 
sense was, to Parmenides and Zeno, a blank negation, the non 
ens. The identity of thought and existence was the funda- 
mental principle of their philosophy. 

" Thought is the same thing as the cause of thought ; 
For without the thing in which it is announced, 
You can not find the thought ; for there is nothing, nor shall be, 
Except the existing."^ 

This theory, therefore, denied to man any valid knowledge of 
the external world. 

^ " Theaetetus," § 23. •" Ibid., §§ 25, 26. ^ Ibid., §§ 39, 87. 

" Ibid., § 87. ^ " Republic," bk. i. ch. xii. 

^ Parmenides, quoted in Lewes's " Biog. History of Philosophy," p. 54. 



332 CHRISTIANITY AND 

It will at once be apparent to the intelligent reader that the 
direct and natural result of both these theories^ of knowledge 
was a tendency to universal skepticism. A spirit of utter in- 
difference to truth and righteousness was the prevailing spirit 
of Athenian society. That spirit is strikingly exhibited in the 
speech of Callicles, "the shrewd man of the. world," in "Gor- 
gias" (§§ 85, S6). Is this new to our ears ? " My dear Socra- 
tes, you talk of /aw. Now the laws, in my judgment, are just 
the work of the weakest and most numerous ; in framing them 
they never thought but of themselves and their own interests j 
they never approve or censure except in reference to f/iis. 
Hence it is that the cant arises that tyranny is improper and 
unjust, and to struggle for eminence, guilt. Unable to rise 
themselves, of course they would wish to preach liberty and 
equality. But nature proclaims the law of the stronger. . . . 
We surround our children from their infancy with preposterous 
prejudices about liberty and justice. The man of sense tram- 
ples on such impositions, and shows what Nature's justice 
is. . . . I confess, Socrates, philosophy is a highly amusing 
study — in moderation, and for boys. But protracted too long, 
it becomes a perfect plague. Your philosopher is a complete 
novice in the life comme ilfaiit. ... I like very well to see a 
child babble and stammer ; there is even a grace about it when 
it becomes his age. But to see a man continue the prattle of 
the child, is absurd. Just so with your philosophy." The con- 
sequence of this prevalent spirit of universal skepticism was a 

^ Between these two extreme theories there were offered two, apparently 
less extravagant, accounts of the nature and limits of human knowledge — 
one declaring that '■'•Science (real knowledge) consists in right opinion'''' {66^a 
alrjdrjQ), but having no further basis in the reason of man ('* Theaetetus," 
§ 108) ; and the other affirming that "Science is right opinion with logical ex- 
plication or definition'''' {(lera Tiojov), ("Thesetetus," §139). A close exam- 
ination will, however, convince us that these are but modifications of the 
sensational theory. The latter forcibly remind us of the system of Locke, 
who adds "reflection" to "sensation," but still maintains that all our "sim- 
ple ideas " are obtained from without, and that these are the only material 
upon which reflection can be exercised. Thus the human mind has no cri- 
terion of truth within itself, no elements of knowledge which are connatural 
and inborn. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 333 

general laxity of morals. The Alcibiades, of the '"'■ Symposium^^ 
is the ideal representative of the young aristocracy of Athens. 
Such was the condition of society generally, and such the de- 
generacy of even the Government itself, that Plato impressively 
declares " that God alone could save the young men of his age 
from ruin.'" 

Therefore the grand, the vital, the most urgent question for 
his times, as indeed for all times, was, What is Truth ? What 
is Right ? In the midst of all this variableness and uncertainty 
of human opinion, is there no ground of certainty ? Amid all 
the fluctuations and changes around us and within us, is there 
nothing that is immutable and permanent ? Have we no ulti- 
mate standard of Right.? Is there no criterion of Truth? 
Plato believed most confidently there was such a criterion and 
standard. He had learned from Socrates, his master, to cherish 
an unwavering faith in the existence of an Eternal Truth, an 
Eternal Order, an Eternal Good, the knowledge of which is 
essential to the perfection and happmess of man, and which 
knowledge must therefore be presumed to be attainable by 
man. Henceforth, therefore, the ceaseless effort of Plato's life 
is to attain a standard (/cpi-?/ptov)^ — a criterion of truth. 

At the outset of his philosophic studies, Plato had derived 
from Socrates an important principle, which became the guide 
of all his subsequent inquiries. He had learned from him that 
the criterion of truth must be no longer sought amid the ever- 
changing phenomena of the "sensible world." This had been 
attempted by the philosophers of the Ionian school, and ended 
in failure and defeat. It must therefore be sought in the meta- 
phenomenal — the "intelligible world ;" that is, it must be sought 
in the apperceptions of the reason, and not in opinions founded 
on sensation. In other words, he must look within. Here, by 
reflection, he could recognize, dimly and imperfectly at first, 
but increasing gradually in clearness and distinctness, two 
classes of cognitions, having essentially distinct and opposite 
characteristics. He found one class that was complex {avyKs- 
* " Republic," bk. vi. ch. vii. "^ " Thesetetus," § 89. 



334 



CHJRISTIANITY AND 



XVfjtepoi'), changeable (ddrepov), contingent and relative (m Trpo'e 
Ti G^iaiv tyovra) ; the other, simple {Kex(^ptorjJiivov), unchange- 
able {advrirov), constant {ravTov), permanent {to ov ael), and 
absolute (arvTroderov = cnrXovy). One class that may be ques- 
tioned, the other admitting of no question, because self-evident 
and necessary, and therefore compelling belief. One class 
grounded on sense-perception, the other conceived by reason 
alone. But whilst the reason recognizes, it does not create 
them. They are not particular and individual, but universal. 
They belong not to the man, but to the race. 

He found, then, that there are in all minds certain " princi- 
ples " which are fundamental — principles which lie at the basis 
of all our cognitions of the objective world, and which, as 
" mental laws," determine all our forms of thought ; and prin- 
ciples, too, which have this marvellous and undeniable charac- 
ter, that they are encountered in the most common experiences, 
and, at the same time, instead of being circumscribed within 
the limits of experience, transcend and govern it — principles 
which ■ are wiiversal in the midst of particular phenomena — 
necessary^ though mingled with things contingent — to our eyes 
infinite and absolute^ even when appearing in. us the relative and 
finite beings that we are.' These first or fundamental princi- 
ples Plato called ideas (l^iai). 

In attempting to present to the reader an adequate repre- 
sentation of the Platonic Ideas, we shall be under the necessity 
of anticipating some of the results of his Dialectical method 
before we have expounded that method. And, further, in 
order that it may be properly appreciated by the modern stu- 
dent, we shall avail ourselves of the lights which modern psy- 
chology, faithful to the method of Plato, has thrown upon the 
subject. Whilst, however, we admit that modern psychology 
has succeeded in giving more definiteness and precision to the 
" doctrine of Ideas," we shall find that all that is fundamentally 
valuable and true was present to the mind of Plato. Whatever 
superiority the " Spiritual " philosophy of to-day may have over 
^ Cousin's **The True, the Beautiful, and the Good," p. 40. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 335 

the philosophy of past ages, it has attained that superiority by 
its adherence to the principles and method of Plato. 

In order to the completeness of our preliminary exposition 
of the Platonic doctrine of Ideas, we shall conditionally as- 
sume, as a natural and legitimate hypothesis, the doctrine so 
earnestly Asserted by Plato, that the visible universe, at least 
in its present form, is an effect which must have had a caused 
and that the Order, and Beauty, and Excellence of the universe 
are the result of the presence and operation of a " regulating 
Intelligence" — a Supreme Mind-' Now that, anterior to the 
creation of the universe, there must have existed in the Eternal 
Mind certain fundamental principles of Order, Right, and Good, 
will not be denied. Every conceivable form, ever}^ possible 
relation^ every principle of rights must have been eternally pres- 
ent to the Divine thought. As pure intelligence, the Deity 
must have always been self-conscious — must have known him- 
self as substance and cause, as the Infinite and Perfect. If 
then the Divine Energy is put forth in creative acts, that energy 
must obey those eternal principles of Order, Right, and Good. 
If the Deity operate at all, he must operate rightly, wisely, and 
well. The created universe must be an image, in the sphere 
of sense, of the ideas which inhere in the reason of the great 
First Cause. 

" Let us declare," says Plato, " with what motive the Creator 
hath formed nature and the universe. He was good^ and in 
the good no manner of envy can, on any subject, possibly sub- 
sist. Exempt from envy, he had wished that all things should, 

as far as possible, resemble himself. It was not, and is not 

to be allowed for the Supremely Good to do any thing except 
what is most excellent (f:aXXioTov)-^most fair., most heaiitiful.^^'^ 
Therefore, argues Plato, "inasmuch as the world is the most 
beautiful of things, and its artificer the best of causes, it is evi- 
dent that the Creator and Father of the universe looked to the 
Eternal Model (Trapa^eiy/xa), pattern, or plan,"* which lay in his 

^ "Timaeus," ch. ix. ^ " Phsedo," § 105. 

^ " Timaeus," ch. x. " Ibid., ch. ix. 



336 CHRISTIANITY AND 

own mind. And thus this one, only-generated universe, is the 
image (ekojv) of that God who is the object of the intellect, the 
greatest, the best, and the most perfect Being. "^ 

And then, furthermore, if this Supreme Intelligence, this 
Eternal Mind, shall create another mind, it must, in a still 
higher degree, resemble him. Inasmuch as it is a rational 
nature, it must, in a peculiar sense, partake of the Divine char- 
acteristics. " The soul," says Plato, " is that which most par- 
takes of the Diviner'^ The soul must, therefore, have native 
ideas and sentiments which correlate it with the Divine orig- 
inal. The ideas of substance and cause, of unity and identity, 
of the infinite and perfect, must be mirrored there. As it is 
the " offspring of God,"^ it must bear some traces and linea- 
ments of its Divine parentage. That soul must be configured 
and correlated to those principles of Order, Right, and Good 
which dwell in the Eternal Mind. And because it has within 
itself the same ideas and laws, according to which the great 
Architect built the universe, therefore it is capable of knowing, 
and, in some degree, of comprehending, the intellectual system 
of the universe. It apprehends the external world by a light 
which the reason supplies. It interprets nature according to 
principles and laws which God has inwrought within the very 
essence of the soul. " That which imparts truth to knowable 
things, and gives the knower his power of knowing truth, is the 
idea of the good, and you are to conceive of this as the source 
of knowledge and of truth."* 

And now we are prepared to form a clear conception of the 
Platonic doctrine of Ideas. Viewed in their relation to the 
Eternal Reason, as giving the primordial thought and law of 
all being, these principles are simply tilr] avra Kad' avra — ideas 
in thetnselves — the essential qualities or attributes of Him who 
is the supreme and ultimate Cause of all existence. When re- 
garded as before the Divine imagination, giving definite forms 
and relations, they are the tv-koi, the Trapahiy/iara — f/ie types, 

^ " Timaeus," ch. Ixxiii. "^ " Laws," bk. v. ch. i. 

^ Ibid., bk. X. * " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xviii. 



GBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 337 

models^ patterns^ ideals according to which the universe was 
fashioned. Contemplated in their actual embodiment in the 
laws, and typical forms of the material world, they are tiKovtq — 
images of the eternal perfections of God. The world of sense 
pictures the world of reason by a participation (/xefle^tc) of the 
ideas. And viewed as interwoven in the very texture and 
framework of the soul, they are oyuoiwjuara — copies of the Divine 
Ideas which are the primordial laws of knowing, thinking, and 
reasoning. Ideas are thus the nexus of relation between God 
and the visible universe, and between the human and the 
Divine reason.* There is something divine in the world, and 
in the human soul, namely, the eternal laws and reasons of 
things, mingled with the endless diversity and change of sensi- 
ble phenomena. These ideas are " the light of the intelligible 
world ;" they render the invisible world of real Being percepti- 
ble to the reason of man. " Light is the offspring of the Good, 
which the Good has produced in his own likeness. Light in 
the visible world is what the idea of the Good is in the intelli- 
gible world. And this offspring of the Good — light — has the 
same relation to vision and visible things which the Good has 
to intellect and intelligible things."^ 

Science is, then, according to Plato, the knowledge of universal, 
necessary, unchangeable, and eternal ideas. The simple cognition 
of the concrete phenomena of the universe is not regarded by 
him as real knowledge. " Science, or real knowledge, belongs 
to Being, and ignorance to ;z^72-Being." Whilst that which is 
conversant only " with that which partakes of both — of being 

^ " Now, Idea is, as regards God, a mental operation by him (the notions 
of God, eternal and perfect in themselves) ; as regards us, the first things 
perceptible by mind ; as regards Matter, a standard ; but as regards the 
world, perceptible by sense, a pattern ; but as considered with reference to 
itself, an existence." — Alcinous, " Introduction to the Doctrines of Plato," 
p. 261. 

" What general notions are to our minds, he (Plato) held, ideas are to 
the Supreme Reason {yovq (iaatMvq) ; they are the eternal thoughts of the 
Divine Intellect, and we attain truth when our thoughts conform with His 
— when our general notions are in conformity with the ideas." — Thompson, 
"Laws of Thought," p, 119. 

^ ** Republic," bk. vi. ch. xix. 

22 



338 CHRISTIANITY AND 

and non-being — and which can not be said either to be or not 
to be" — that which is perpetually "becoming," but never 
"really is," is "simply opinion, and not real knowledge."^ 
And those only are "philosophers" who have a knowledge of 
the really -existing, in opposition to the mere seeming; of the 
ahvays- existing, in opposition to the transitory; and of that 
which Qxists permanently, in opposition to that which waxes and 
wanes— is developed and destroyed alternately. " Those who 
recognize many beautiful things, but who can not see the Beau- 
tiful itself, and can not even follow those who would lead them 
to it, they opifie, but do not kjtow. And the same may be said 
of those who recognize right actions, but do not recognize an 
absolute righteousness. And so of other ideas. But they who 
look at these ideas — permanent and unchangeable ideas — these 
men 7rally know.^^"^ Those are the true philosophers alone who 
love the sight of truth, and who have attained to the vision of 
the eternal order, and righteousness, and beauty, and goodness 
in the Eternal Being. And the means by which the soul is 
raised to this vision of real Being (-6 o^^-wc ov) is the science 

OF REAL KNOWLEDGE- 

Plato, in the " Theaetetus," puts this question by the in- 
terlocutor Socrates, "What is Science (E-n-KTriifxt]) or positive 
knowledge ?"^ Theaetetus essays a variety of answers, such as, 
" Science is sensation," " Science is right judgment or opin- 
ion," " Science is right opinion with logical definition." These, 
in the estimation of the Platonic Socrates, are all unsatisfac- 
tory and inadequate. But after you have toiled to the end of 
this remarkable discussion, in which Socrates demolishes all 
the then received theories of knowledge, he gives you no an- 
swer of his own. He abruptly closes the discussion by naively 
remarking that, at any rate, Theaetetus will learn that he does 
not understand the subject ; and the ground is now cleared for 
an original investigation. 

This investigation is resumed in the "Republic." This 

^ " Republic," bk. v. ch. xx. ^ Ibid., bk. v. ch. xxii. 

^ "Theaetetus," § lo. 



GREEK PHILOSOFHT. 339 

greatest work of Plato's was designed not only to exhibit a 
scheme of Polity, and present a system of Ethics, but also, at 
least in its digressions, to propound a system of Metaphysics 
more complete and solid than had yet appeared. The discus- 
sion as to i\\Q powers ox faculties by which we obtain knowledge, 
the method ox process by which real knowledge is attained, and 
the ultimate objects or ontological groimds of all real knowledge, 
commences at § 18, book v., and extends to the end of book vii. 

That we may reach a comprehensive view of this " sublimest 
of sciences," we shall find it necessary to consider — 

I St. What are the powers or faculties by which we obtaift 
knowledge, and what are the limits and degrees of human knowl- 
edge ? 

2d. What is the method in which, or the processes and laws ac- 
cording to which, the mind opei'ates in obtaining knowledge 1 

3d. What are the ultimate results attained by this method 1 
what are the objective and ontological grounds of all real knowl- 
edge ? 

The answer to the first question will give the Platonic 
Psychology ; the answer to the second will exhibit the Pla- 
tonic Dialectic; the answer to the last will reveal the Pla- 
tonic Ontology. 

i. platonic psychology. 

Every successful inquiry as to the reality and validity of 
human knowledge must commence by clearly determining, by 
rigid analysis, what are the actual phenomena presented in 
consciousness, what are the powers or faculties supposed by 
these phenomena, and what reliance are we to place upon the 
testimony of these faculties ? iVnd, especially, if it be asserted 
that there is a science of absolute Reality, of ultimate and es- 
sential Being, then the most important and vital question is, 
By what power do we cognize real Being ? through what faculty 
do we obtain the knowledge of that which absolutely is 1 If 
by sensation we only obtain the knowledge of the fleeting and 
the transitory, " the becoming^^ how do we attain to the knowl- 



340 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



edge of the unchangeable and permanent, " the Being ?" Have 
we a faculty of universal, necessary, and eternal principles? 
Have we a faculty, an interior eye which beholds " the intelligi- 
ble" ideal, spiritual world, as the eye of sense beholds the visi- 
ble or ^^ sensible world V^'^ 

Plato commences this inquiry by first defining his under- 
standing of the word hvyajjug — -power ox faculty. " We will say 
\h?it faculties {Zvvclixeiq) are a certain kind of real existences by 
which we can do whatever we are able {e.g.^ to know), as there 
are powers by which every thing does what it does : the eye 
has a power of seeing ; the ear has a power of hearing. But 
these powers (of which I now speak) have no color or figure to 
which I can so refer that I can distinguish one power from 
another. In order to make such distijtction^ I must look at the 
power itself and see what it is, and what it does. In that way 
I discern the power of each thi7ig, and that is the same power 
which produces the same effect, and that is a different power which 
produces a different effect.""^ That which is employed about, 
and accomplishes one and the same purpose, this Plato calls 
2i faculty. 

AVe have seen that our first conceptions (/. e., first in the 
order of time) are of the mingled, the concrete {to avyKf.yy\xi- 
voy), " the multiplicity of things to which the multitude ascribe 
beauty," etc.^ The mind "contemplates what is great and 
small, not as distinct from each other, but as confused."* 
Prior to the discipline of reflectio7i, "men are curious about 
mere sights and sounds, love beautiful voices, beautiful colors, 
beautiful forms, but their intelligence can not see, can not em- 
brace, the essential nature of the Beautiful itself."^ Man's con- 
dition previous to the education of philosophy is vividly pre- 
sented in Plato's simile of the cave." He beholds only the im- 
ages and shadows of the ectypal world, which are but dim and 
distant adumbrations of the real and archetypal world. Pri- 

' " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xviii. ' Ibid., bk. v. ch. xxi. 

^ Ibid., bk. V. ch. xxii. * Ibid., bk. vii. ch. viii. 

* Ibid., bk. V. ch. xx. * Ibid., bk. vii. ch. i., ii. 



GREEK FUILOSOPHY. 341 

marily nothing is given in the abstract {to Kex^opiffiiivov), but 
every thing in the concrete. The primary faculties of the 
mind enter into action spontaneously and simultaneously ; all 
our primary notions are consequently synthetic. When reflec- 
tion is applied to this primary totality of consciousness, that 
is, when we analyze our notions, we find them composed of 
diverse and opposite elements, some of which are variable, 
contingent, individual, and relative, others are permanent, un- 
changeable, universal, necessary, and absolute. Now these 
elements, so diverse, so opposite, can not have been obtained 
from the same source; they must be suppHed by separate 
powers. "Can any man with common sense reduce under 
one what is infallible^ and what is not infallible V^^ Can that 
which is ^'■perpetually becoming'''' be apprehended by the same 
faculty as that which ^'■always is ?"^ Most assuredly not. 

These primitive intuitions — the simple perceptions of sense, 
and the d priori intuitions of the reason, which constitute the 
elements of all our complex notions, have essentially diverse 
objects — the sensible or ectypal world, seen by the eye and 
touched by the hand, which Plato calls lolaariiv — the subject of 
opinion ; and the noetic or archetypal world, perceived by rea- 
son, and which he calls ^lavorjriKiiv — t/ie subject of rational intui- 
tion or science. "It is plain," therefore, argues Plato, "that 
opinion is a different thing from sciejice. They must, therefore, 
have a different faculty in reference to a different object — sci 
ence as regards that which is, so as to know the nature of real 
being — opinion as regards that which can not be said abso- 
lutely to be, or not to be. That which is known and that 
which is opined can not possibly be the same, .... since they 
are naturally faculties of different things, and both of them are 
faculties — opinion and science, and each of them different from 
the other. "^ Here then are two grand divisions of the mental 
powers — a faculty of apprehending universal and necessary 



' " Republic," bk. v. ch. xxi. 

^ Ibid., bk. V. ch. xxii. ; also " Timaeus,' 

^ Ibid., bk. V. ch. xxi., xxii. 



'9' 



342 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Truth, of intuitively beholding absolute Reality, and a faculty 
of perceiving sensible objects, and of judging according to ap- 
pearance. 

According to the scheme of Plato, these two general divis- 
ions of the mental powers are capable of a further subdivision. 
He says : " Consider that there are two kinds of things, the ifi~ 
telligible and the visible ; two different regions, the intelligible 
world and the sensible world. Now take a line divided into 
two equal segments to represent these two regions, and again 
divide each segment in the same ratio — both that of the visible 
and that of the intelligible species. The parts of each segment 
are to represent differences of clearness and indistinctness. In 
the visible world the parts are things and images. By i7nages 
I mean shadows,^ reflections in water and in polished bodies, 
and all such like representations ; and by thi?igs I mean that 
of which images are resemblances, as animals, plants, and 
things made by man. 

"You allow that this difference corresponds to the differ- 
ence of knowledge and opinion ; and the opinionable is to the 
know able as the image to the reality."^ 

" Now we have to divide the segment which represents intel- 

^ As in the simile of the cave (" Republic," bk. vii. ch. i. atid ii.). 

^ The analogy between the "images produced by reflections in water: 
and on polished surfaces" and "the images of external objects produced in 
the mind by sensation" is more fully presented in the "Timaeus," ch. 19. 

The eye is a light-bearer, " made of that part of elemental fire which 
does not burn, but sheds a mild light, like the light of day. . . . When the 
light of the day meets the light which beams from the eye, then light meets 
like, and make a homogeneous body ; the external light meeting the inter- 
nal light, in the direction in which the eye looks. And by this homogeneity 
like feels like ; and if this beam touches any object, or any object touches it, 
it transmits the motions through the body to the soul, and produces that 
sensation which we call seeing. . . . And if (in sleep) some of the strong 
motions remain in some part of the frame, they produce within us likenesses 
of external objects, . . . and thus give rise to dreams. ... As to the images 
produced by mirrors and by smooth surfaces, they are now easily explained, 
for all such phenomena result from the mutual affinity of the external and 
internal fires. The light that proceeds from the face (as an object of vision), 
and the light that proceeds from the eye, become one continuous ray on the 
smooth surface." 



GREEK PHIL S OPH Y. 343 

ligible things in this way : The one part represents the knowl- 
edge which the mind gets by using things as images — the other, 
that which it has by deahng with the ideas themselves ; the 
one part that which it gets by reasoning downward from prin- 
ciples — the other, the principles themselves; the one part, 
truth which depends on hypotheses — the other, unhypothetical 
or absolute truth. 

"Thus, to explain a problem in geometry, the geometers 
make certain hypotheses (namely, definitions and postulates) 
about numbers and angles, and the like, and reason from them 
— -giving no reason for their assumptions, but taking them as 
evident to all ; and, reasoning from them, they prove the prop- 
ositions which they have in view. And in such reasonings, 
they use visible figures or diagrams — to reason about a square, 
for instance, with its diagonals ; but these reasonings are not 
really about these visible figures, but about the mental figures, 
and which they conceive in thought. 

" The diagrams which they draw, being visible, are the im- 
ages of thoughts which the geometer has in his mind, and these 
images he uses in his reasoning. There may be images of 
these images — shadows and reflections in water, as of other 
visible things ; but still these diagrams are only images of con- 
ceptions. 

" This, then, is one kind, of intelligible things : conceptions — for 
instance, geometrical conceptions of figures. But in dealing 
with these the mind depends upon assumptions, and does not 
ascend to first principles. It does not ascend above these as- 
sumptions, but uses images borrowed from a lower region (the 
visible world), these images being chosen so as to be as dis- 
tinct as may be. 

" Now the ^/,^^r kind of intelligible things is this : that which 
the Reason includes, in virtue of its power of reasoning, when 
it regards the assumptions of the sciences as (what they are) 
assumptions only, and uses them as occasions and starting- 
points, that from these it may ascend to the Absolute, which 
does not depend upon assumption, the origin of scientific truth. 



344 CHRISTIANITY AND 

The reason takes ^old of this first principle of truth, and availing 
itself of all the connections and relations of this principle, it 
proceeds to the conclusion — using no sensible image in doing 
this, but contemplates the idea alone ; and with these ideas the 
process begins, goes on, and terminates." 

"I apprehend," said Glaucon, "but not very clearly, for the 
matter is somewhat abstruse. You wish to prove that the knowl- 
edge which by the reason, hi an intuitive manner, we may acquire 
of real existence and iiitelligible things is of a higher degree of cer- 
tainty than the knowledge which belongs to what are commonly 
called the Sciences. Such sciences, you say, have certain as- 
sumptions for their basis ; and these assumptions are by the 
student of such sciences apprehended not by sense, but by a 
mental operation — by conception. 

" But inasmuch as such students ascend no higher than as- 
sumptions, and do not go to the first principles of truth, they 
do not seem to have true knowledge, intellectual insight, intui- 
tive reason, on the subjects of their reasonings, though the sub- 
jects are intelligible things. And you call this habit and prac- 
tice of the geometers and others by the name of judgment 
(Bmroia), not reason, or insight, or intuition — taking judgment 
to be something between opinion, on the one side, and intuitive 
reason, on the other. 

" You have explained it well," said I. " And now consider 
these four kinds of things we have spoken of, as corresponding 
to four affections (or faculties) of the mind. Intuitive rea- 
son {y6r](nq), the highest ; judgment i^iavoia) (or discursive rea- 
son), the next ; the third, belief (Tr/ortc) ; and the fourth, con- 
jecture, or guess (ekaaia) ; and arrange them in order, so that 
they may be held to have more or less certainty, as their ob- 
jects have more or less truth."' The completeness, and even 
accuracy of this classification of all the objects of human cog- 
nition, and of the corresponding mental powers, will be seen 
at once by studying the diagram proposed by Plato, as figured 
on the opposite page. 

^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xx. and xxi. 



GREEK FJIILO SOPHY. 



345 



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346 CHRISTIANITY AND 

The foregoing diagram, borrowed from Whewell, with some 
modifications and additions we have ventured to make, exhibits 
a perfect view of the Platonic scheme of the cognitive powers — 
the faculties by which the mind attains to different degrees of 
knowledge, "having more or less certainty, as their objects 
have more or less truth."^ 

I St. Sensation (aiffdrjaig). — This term is employed by Plato 
to denote the passive mental states or affections which are pro- 
duced within us by external objects through the medium of the 
vital organization, and also the cognition or vital perception or 
consciousness^ which the mind has of these mental states. 

2d. Phantasy (^ar-ao-m). — This term is employed to de- 
scribe the power which the mind possesses of imagining or 
representing whatever has once been the object of sensation. 
This may be done involuntarily as "in dreams, disease, and 
hallucination,"^ or voluntarily, as in reminiscence. ^avrdirjjLaTa 
are the images, the life-pictures {^ioypacprjfxa) of sensible things 
which are present to the mind, even when no external object 
is present to the sense. 

The conjoint action of these two powers results in what Plato 
calls opinion (W^a). " Opinion is the complication of memoiy 
and sensation. For when we meet for the first time with a 
thing perceptible by a sense, and a sensation is produced by it, 
and from this sensation a memory, and we subsequently meet 
again with the same thing perceived by a sense, we combine 
the memory previously brought into action with the sensation 
produced a second time, and we say within ourselves [this is] 
Socrates, or a horse, or fire, or whatever thing there may be of 

^ " Republic," bk. vii. ch. xix. 

^ " In Greek philosophy there was no term for * consciousness ' until the 
decline of philosophy, and in the latter ages of the language. Plato and 
Aristotle, to say nothing of other philosophers, had no special term to ex- 
press the knowledge which the mind has of the operation of its own facul- 
ties, though this, of course, was necessarily a frequent matter of considera- 
tion. Intellect was supposed by them to be cognizant of its own opera- 
tions. ... In his ' Theaetetus ' Plato accords to sense the power of perceiv- 
ing that it perceives." — Hamilton's " Metaphysics," vol. i. p. 198 (Eng. ed.). 

''"The£tetus,"§39. 



GREEK PHILOSOPUY. 347 

such a kind. Now this is called opinion^ through our combin- 
ing the recollection brought previously into action with the sen- 
sation recently produced. And when these, placed along each 
other, agree, a true opinion is produced ; but when they swerve 
from each other, a false one.'" The 161^ of Plato, therefore, 
answers to the experience, or the e77tpirical knowledge oimodtxn 
philosophy, which is concerned only with appearances (phe- 
nomena), and not with absolute realities, and can not be ele- 
vated to the dignity of science or real knowledge. 

We are not from hence to infer that Plato intended to deny 
all reality whatever to the objects of sensible experience. These 
transitory phenomena were not real existences, but they were 
images of real existences. The world itself is but the image, 
in the sphere of sense, of those ideas of Order, and Proportion, 
and Harmony, which dwell in the Divine Intellect, and are 
mirrored in the soul of man. " Time itself is a moving image 
of Eternity."^ But inasmuch as the immediate object of sense- 
perception is a representative image generated in the vital or- 
ganism, and all empirical cognitions are mere "conjectures" 
{(kaffiai) founded on representative images, they need to be 
certified by a higher faculty, which immediately apprehends 
real Being {to ov). Of things, as they are in themselves, the 
senses give us no knowledge ; all that in sensation we are con- 
scious of is certain affections of the mind (Tradog) ; the exist- 
ence of self, or the perceiving subject, and a something external 
to self, a perceived object, are revealed to us, not by the senses, 
but by the reason. 

3d. Judgment {^lapoia, Xoyog), the Discursive Faculty, or the 
Faculty of Relations. — According to Plato, this faculty proceeds 
on the assumption of certain principles as true, without inquir- 
ing into their validity, and reasons, by deduction, to the conclu- 
sions which necessarily flow from these principles. These as- 
sumptions Plato calls hypotheses {vTrodia-eic). But by hypotheses 
he does not mean baseless assumptions — mere theories — but 

^ Alcinous, " Introduction to the Doctrine of Plato," p. 247. 
^ " Timaeus," § 14. 



348 CHRISTIANITY AND 

things self-evident and " obvious to all ;"^ as for example, the 
postulates and definitions of Geometry. "After laying down 
hypotheses of the odd and even, and three kinds of angles 
[right, acute, and obtuse], and figures [as the triangle, square, 
circle, and the like], he proceeds on them as kftown, and gives no 
further reason about them, and reasons downward from these 
principles,"^ affirming certain judgments as consequences de- 
ducible therefrom. 

All judgments are therefore founded on relations. To judge 
is to compare two terms. " Every judgment has three parts : 
the subject, or notion about which the judgment is; the predi- 
cate, or notion with which the subject is compared ; and the 
copula, or nexus, which expresses the connection or relation be- 
tween them."^ Every act of affirmative judgment asserts the 
agreement of the predicate and subject j every act of negative 
judgment asserts the predicate and subject do not agree. All 
judgment is thus an attempt to reduce to unity two cognitions, 
and reasoning (Xoyi^eadai) is simply the extension of this process. 
When we look at two straight lines of equal length, v/e do not 
merely think of them separately as this straight line, and that 
straight line, but they are immediately connected together by a 
comparison which takes place in the mind. We perceive that 
these two lines are alike ; they are of equal length, and they 
are both straight; and the connection which is perceived as 
existing between them is a relation of sameness or identity.^ 
When we observe any change occurring in nature, as, for ex- 
ample, the melting of wax in the presence of heat, the mind 
recognizes a causal efficiency in the fire to produce that change, 
and the relation now apprehended is a relation of cause and ef- 
fect.^ But the fundamental principles, the necessary ideas 
which lie at the basis of all the judgments (as the ideas of 
space and time, of unity and identity, of substance and cause, 
of the infinite and perfect) are not given by the judgment, but 

^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xx. ^ Ibid., bk. vi. ch. xx. 

* Thompson's "Laws of Thought," p. 134. 

* " Phaedo," §§ 50-57, 62. ^ " Timaus," ch. ix. ; " Sophocles," § 109. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 349 

by the "highest faculty" — the Intuitive Reason^ which is, for 
us, the source of all unhypothetical and absolute knowledge. 

The knowledge, therefore, which is furnished by the Discur- 
sive Reason, Plato does not regard as " real Science." " It is 
something between Opinion on the one hand, and Intuition on 
the other."'' 

4th. Reason {vovq)— Intuitive Reason^ is the organ of self- 
evident, necessary, and universal Truth. In an immediate, 
direct, and intuitive manner, it takes hold on truth with abso- 
lute certainty. . The reason, through the medium of ideas, holds 
communion with the world of real Being. These ideas are the 
light which reveals the world of unseen realities, as the sun re- 
veals the world of sensible forms. " The idea of the good is the i 
sun of the Intelligible World j it sheds on objects the light of . 
truth, and gives to the soul that knows, the power of knowing."^ ^ 
Under this light, the eye of reason apprehends the eternal / 
world of being as truly, yes more truly, than the eye of sense 
apprehends the world of phenomena. This power the rational 
soul possesses by virtue of its having a nature kindred, or even 
homogeneous with the Divinity. It was " generated by the Di- 
vine Father," and, like him, it is in a certain sense ^^ eternal."*' 
Not that we are to understand Plato as teaching that the ra- 
tional soul had an independent and underived existence ; it 

^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xxi. "^ Ibid., bk. vi. ch. xxi. 

® Ibid., bk. vi', ch. xix. ; see also ch. xviii. 

^ The reader must familiarize himself with the Platonic notion of " eterni- 
ty ^^^ as a fixed state out of time existing contemporaneous with one in time, to ap- 
preciate the doctrine of Plato as stated above. If we regard his idea of 
eternity as m-crely an indefinite extension of time, with a past, a present, 
and a future, we can offer no rational interpretation of his doctrine of the 
eternal nature of the rational essence of the soul. An eternal nature " gen- 
erated" in a "past" or "present" time is a contradiction. But that was 
not Plato's conception of " eternity," as the reader will discover on perusing 
the " Timasus " (ch. xiv.). " God resolved to create a moving image of eter- 
nity, .... and out of that eternity which reposes in its own unchangeable unity 
he framed an eternal image moving according to numerical succession, 
which we call Time. Nothing can be more inaccurate than to apply the 
terms, past, present, future, to real Being, which is immovable. Past and 
future are expressions only suitable to generation which proceeds through 
time." Time reposes on the bosom of eternity, as all bodies are in space. 



350 ' CHRISTIANITY AND 

was created or " generated " in eternity/ and even now, in its 
incorporate state, is not amenable to tiie conditions of time 
and space, but, in a peculiar sense, dwells in eternity; and 
therefore is capable of beholding eternal realities, and coming 
into communion with absolute beauty, and goodness, and truth 
— that is, with God, the Absolute Being. 

Thus the soul {\pvxn) as a composite nature is on one side 
linked to the eternal world, its essence being generated of that 
ineffable element which constitutes the real, the immutable, 
and the permanent. It is a beam of the eternal Sun, a spark 
of the Divinity, an emanation from God. On the other side it 
is linked to the phenomenal or sensible world, its emotive part^ 
being formed of that which is relative and phenomenal. The 
soul of man thus stands midway between the eternal and the 
contingent, the real and the phenomenal, and as such, it is the 
mediator between, and the interpreter of, both. 

In the allegory of the " Chariot and Winged Steeds "^ Plato 
represents the lower or inferior part of man's nature as drag- 
ging the soul down to the earth, and subjecting it to the slavery 
and debasement of corporeal conditions. Out of these con- 
ditions there arise numerous evils that disorder the mind and 
becloud the reason, for evil is inherent to the condition of finite 
and multiform being into which we have " fallen by our own 
fault." The present earthly life is a fall and a punishment. The 
soul is now dwelling in "the grave we call the body." In its 
incorporate state, and previous to the discipline of education, 
the rational element is "asleep." "Life is more of a dream 
than a reality." Men are utterly the slaves of sense, the sport 
of phantoms and illusions. We now resemble those " captives 
chained in a subterraneous cave," so poetically described in the 
seventh book of the " Republic ;" their backs are turned to the 
light, and consequently they see but the shadows of the objects 

^ " Timaeus," ch. xvi., and " Phsedrus," where the soul is pronounced 
apxv ^£ ayivTjTov. 

^ Qv/ioet6ic, the seat of the nobler — eTridvurjTiKdv, the seat of the baser 
passions. 

^ " Phadrus," § 54-62. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 35 1 

which pass behind them, and they " attribute to these shadows 
a perfect reahcy." Their sojourn upon earth is thus a dark 
imprisonment in the body, a dreamy exile from their proper 
home. "Nevertheless these pale fugitive shadows suffice to 
revive in us the reminiscence of that higher world we once in- 
habited, if we^ have not absolutely given the reins to the im- 
petuous untamed horse which in Platonic symbolism represents 
the emotive sensuous nature of man." The soul has some dim 
and shadowy recollection of its ante-natal state of bliss, and 
some instinctive and proleptic yearnings for its return. 

" Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting ; 
The soul that rises with us, our life's star, 

Has had elsewhere its setting, 

And Cometh from afar, 

Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 
But trailing clouds of glory, do we come 
From God, who is our home."^ 

Exiled from the true home of the spirit, imprisoned in the 
body, disordered by passion, and beclouded by sense, the soul 
has yet longings after that state of perfect knowledge, and 
purity, and bliss, in which it was first created. Its affinities 
are still on high. It yearns for a higher and nobler form of 
life. It essays to rise, but its eye is darkened by sense, its 
wings are besmeared by passion and lust ; it is " borne down- 
ward, until at length it falls upon and attaches itself to that 
which is material and sensual," and it flounders and grovels 
still amid the objects of sense. 

And nov7, with all that seriousness and earnestness of spirit 
which is peculiarly Christian, Plato asks how the soul may be 
delivered from the illusions of sense, the distempering influ- 
ence of the body, and the disturbances of passion, which be- 
cloud its vision of the real, the good, and the true ^ 

Plato believed and hoped this could be accomplished by 
philosophy. This he regarded as a grand intellectual discipline 
for the purification of the soul. By this it was to be disen- 
^ Wordswprth, " Ode on the Intimations of Immortality," vol. v. 



352 CHRISTIANITY AND 

thralled from the bondage of sense^ and raised into the em- 
pyrean of pure thought " where truth and reality shine forth." 
All souls have the faculty of knowing, but it is only by reflec- 
tion, and self-knowledge, and intellectual discipline, that the 
soul can be raised to the vision of eternal truth, goodness, and 
beauty — that is, to the vision of God. And this intellectual dis- 
cipline was the Flato7iic Dialectic. 

^ Not, however, fully in this life. The consummation of the intellectual 
struggle into " the intelligible world " is death. The intellectual discipline 
was therefore (ieMtt] Oavdrov, a preparation for death. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 353 



CHAPTER XL 

THE PHILOSOPHERS OF ATHENS {continued). 
THE SOCRATIC SCHOOL {continued). 

PLATO. 
II. THE PLATONIC DIALECTIC. 

THE Platonic Dialectic is the Science of Eternal and Im- 
mutable Principles, and the method (opyavov) by which 
these first principles are brought forward into the clear light 
of consciousness. The student of Plato will have discovered 
that he makes no distinction between logic and metaphysics. 
These are closely united in the one science to which he gives 
the name of '^Dm/ectie" and which was at once the science of 
the ideas and laws of the Reason, and of the mental process 
by which the knowledge of Real Being is attained, and a 
ground of absolute certainty is found. This science has, in 
modern times, been called Frimordial or Transcendental Logic. 
We have seen that Plato taught that the human reason is 
originally in possession of fundamental and necessary ideas — 
the copies of the archetypal ideas which dwell in the eternal 
Reason; and that these ideas are the primordial laws of 
thought — that is, they are the laws under which we conceive 
of all objective things, and reason concerning- all existence. 
These ideas, he held, are not derived from sensation, neither 
are they generalizations from experience, but they are inborn 
and connatural. And, further, he entertained the belief, more, 
however, as a reasonable hypothesis^ than as- a demonstrable 
truth, that these standard principles were acquired by the soul 

^ Within "the ekt^rwv fivdoiv Idea — the category of probability." — 
"Phsedo." 

23 



354 CHRISTIANITY AND 

in a pre-existent state in which it stood face to face with ideas 
of eternal order, beauty, goodness, and truth.^ "Journeying 
with the Deity," the soul contemplated justice, wisdom, sci- 
ence — not that science which is concerned with change, and 
which appears under a different manifestation in different ob- 
jects, which we choose to call beings; but such science as is 
in that which alone is indeed being^ Ideas, therefore, belong 
to, and inhere in, that portion of the soul which is properly 
ovcria — essence or being; which had an existence anterior to 
time, and even now has no relation to time, because it is now 
in eternity — that is, in a sphere of being to which past, present, 
and future can have no relation.^ 

All knowledge of truth and reality is, therefore, according 
to Plato, a REMINISCENCE (avaiivr\aiQ) — a recovery of partially 
forgotten ideas which the soul possessed in another state of 
existence ; and the dialectic of Plato is simply the effort, by apt 
interrogation, to lead the mind to '■^ recollect^''^ the truth which has 
been formerly perceived by it, and is even now in the memory 
though not in consciousness. An illustration of this method 
is attempted in the ^^ Meno,'^ where Plato introduces Socrates 
as making an experiment on the mind of an uneducated per- 
son. Socrates puts a series of questions to a slave of Meno, 
and at length elicits from the youth a right enunciation of a 
geometrical truth. Socrates then points triumphantly to this 
instance, and bids Meno observe that he had not taught the 
youth any thing, but simply interrogated him as to his opinions, 
whilst the youth had recalled the knowledge previously existing 
in his own mind.* 

Now whilst we readily grant that the instance given in the 
^^ Meno " does not sustain the inference of Plato that " the boy " 
had learnt these geometrical truths " in eternity," and that they 
had simply been brought forward into the view of his con- 

^ " Phaedo," § 50-56. "^ " Phsedrus," § 58. ^ See note on p. 349. 

* " To learn is to recover our own previous knowledge, and this is prop- 
erly to recollect:'—"' Phaedo," § 55. 

^ "Meno," § 16-20. "Now for a person to recover knowledge himself 
through himself, is not this to recollect:'' 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 355 

sciousness by the " questioning " of Socrates, yet it certainly 
does prove that there are ideas or principles in the human reason 
which are fiof derived from without — which are anterior to all 
experience^ and for the development of which^ experience furnishes 
the occasion., but is not the origin and source. By a kind of lofty 
inspiration, he caught sight of that most important doctrine of 
modern philosophy, so clearly and logically presented by Kant, 
that the Reason is the source of a pure a priori knowledge — a 
knowledge native to, and potentially in the mind, antecedent 
to all experience, and which is simply brought out into the field 
of consciousness by experience conditions. Around this great- 
est of all metaphysical truths Plato threw a gorgeous mythic 
dress, and presented it under the most picturesque imagery.^ 
But, when divested of the rich coloring which the glowing im- 
agination of Plato threw over it, it is but a vivid presentation 
of the cardinal truth that there are ideas in the mind which have 
not been derived from without, and which, therefore, the mind 
brought with it into the present sphere of being. The validity 
and value of this fundamental doctrine, even as presented by 
Plato, is unaffected by any speculations in which he may have 
indulged, as to the pre-existence of the soul. He simply re- 
garded this doctrine of pre-existence as highly probable — -a 
plausible explanation of the facts. That there are ideas, ih- 
nate and connatural to the human mirfd, he clung to as the 
most vital, most precious, most certain of all truths ; and to 
lead man to the recognitions of these ideas, to bring them with- 
in the field of consciousness, was, in his judgment, the great 
business of philosophy. 

And this was the grand aim of his Dialectic — to elicit, to 
bring to light the truths which are already in the mind — "a 
IdaiEvrriQ,'" a kind of intellectual midwifery'^ — a delivering of the 
mind of the ideas with which it was pregnant. 

It is thus, at first sight, obvious that it was a higher and 
more comprehensive science than the art of deduction. For it 

' As in the " Phaedo," §§ 48-57 ; " Phaedrus," §§ 52-64 ; " Republic," bk. x. 
= "Theastetus."§§ 17-20. 



356 CHRISTIANITY AND 

was directed to the discovery and establishment of First Princi- 
ples. Its sole object was the discovery of truth. His dialectic 
was an a7ialytical and inductive method. " In Dialectic Sci- 
ence," says AldnouSj "there is a dividing and a defining, and 
an analyzing, and, moreover, that which is inductive and syllo- 
gistic."' Even Bacon, who is usually styled " the Father of 
the Inductive method," and who, too often, speaks dispara- 
gingly of Plato, is constrained to admit that he followed the 
inductive method. "An induction such as will be of advan- 
tage for the invention and demonstration of Arts and Sciences 
must distinguish the essential nature of things (naturam) by 
proper rejections and exclusions, and then after as many of 
these negatives as are sufficient, by comprising, above all (su- 
per), the positives. Up to this time this has not been done, 
nor even attempted, except by Plato alone, who, in order to at- 
tain his definitiojis arid ideas, has used, to a certain extent, the 
method of Inductio7i. "^ 

The process of investigation adopted by Plato thus corre- 
sponds with the inductive method of modern times, with this 
simple difference, that Bacon conducted science into the world 
of matter^ whilst Plato directed it to the world of mi7id. The 
dialectic of Plato aimed at the discovery of the "laws of 
thought;" the modern inductive philosophy aims at the dis- 
covery of the "laws of nature." The latter concerns itself 
chiefly with the inquiry after the " causes " of material phenom- 
ena; the former concerned itself with the inquiry after the 
" first principles " of all knowledge and of all existence. Both 
processes are, therefore, carried on by interrogation. The anal- 
ysis which seeks for a law of nature proceeds by the interro- 
gation of nature. The analysis of Plato proceeds by the in- 
terrogation of mind, in order to discover the fundamental ideas 
which lie at the basis of all cognition, which determine all our 

' " Introduction to the Doctrines of Plato," vol. vi. p. 249. " The Pla- 
tonic Method was the method of induction." — Cousin's "History of Philos- 
ophy," vol. i, p. 307. 

* "Novum Organum," vol. i. p. 105. 



OUEEK PUILOSOPEY. 357 

processes of thought, and which, in their final analysis, reveal 
the REAL EEiNG, which is the ground and explanation of all 
existence. 

Now the fact that such an inquiry has originated in the 
human mind, and that it can not rest satisfied without some 
solution, is conclusive evidence that the mind has an instinct- 
ive belief, a proleptic anticipation, that such knowledge can be 
attained. There must unquestionably be some mental initia- 
tive which is the motive and guide to all philosophical inquiry. 
We must have some well-grounded conviction, some d priori 
belief, some pre-cognition "ad intentionem ejus quod quaeri- 
tur,"^ which determines the direction of our thinking. The 
mind does not go to work aimlessly; it asks a specific ques- 
tion; it demands the ^'"whence^^ and the ^^why^^ of that which 
is. Neither does it go to work unfurnished with any guiding 
principles. That which impels the mind to a determinate act 
of thinking is the possession of a knowledge which is different 
from, and independent of, the process of thinking itself. " A 
rational anticipation is, then, the ground of the prudens qucestio 
— the forethought query, which, in fact, is the prior half of the 
knowledge sought.'"* If the mind inquire after " laws," and 
" causes," and " reasons," and " grounds," — the first principles 
of all knowledge and of all existence, — it must have the d priori 
ideas of " law," and " cause," and " reason," and " being i7t se^^ 
which, though dimly revealed to the mind previous to the dis- 
cipline of reflection, are yet unconsciously governing its spon- 
taneous modes of thought. The whole process of induction 
has, then, some rational ground to proceed upon — some prin- 
ciples deeper than science, and more certain than demonstra- 
tion, which reason contains within itself, and which induction 
" draws out " into clearer light. 

Now this mental initiative of every process of induction is 
the intuitive and necessary conviction that there must be a suffi- 
cient reason why every thing exists, and why it is as it is, and not 
otherwise-^ or in other words, if any thing begins to be, some- 

^ Bacon. "^ Coleridge, vol. ii. p. 413. ^ " Phaedo," § 103. 



358 CHRISTIANITY AND 

thing else must be supposed^ as the ground, and reason, and 
cause, and law of its existence. This ^^law of sufficient (or de~ 
terminant) reason^^^ is the fundamental principle of all meta- 
physical inquiry. It is contained, at least in a negative form, 
in that famous maxim of ancient philosophy, ^^De nihilo nihiP' — 
"'A^yvarov yiveadai tl Ik fitj^evoc Trpovirapyovrog.^' "It is impos- 
sible for a real entity to be made or generated from nothing 
pre-existing;" or in other words, "nothing can be made or 
produced without an efficient cause. "^ This principle is also 
distinctly announced by Plato : " Whatever is generated, is 
necessarily generated from a certain airmv" — ground, reason, 
or cause; " for it is wholly impossible that any thing should be 
generated without a cause."* 

The first business of Plato's dialectic is to demonstrate that 
the ground and reason of all existence can not be found in the 
mere objects of sense, nor in any opinions or judgments found- 
ed upon sensation. Principles are only so far "first princi- 
ples " as they are permanent and unchangeable, depending on 
neither time, nor place, nor circumstances. But the objects 
of sense are in ceaseless flux and change ; they are " always 
becoming ;^^ they can not be said to have any ^''real beingJ^ 
They are not to-day what they were yesterday, and they will 
never again be what they are now ; consequently all opinions 
founded on mere phenomena are equally fluctuating and uncer- 
tain. Setting out, therefore, from the assumption of the falla- 
ciousness of '''' opinion^^ it examined, the various hypotheses 

^ Suppono, to place under as a support, to take as a ground. 

"^ This generic principle, viewed under different relations, gives — 

I St. The principle of Substance — every quality supposes a subject or real 
being. 

2d. The principle of Causality — every thing which begins to be must have 
a cause. 

3d. The principle ofLaiv — every phenomenon must obey some uniform law. 

4th. The principle of Final Cause — every means supposes an end, every 
existence has a purpose or reason why. 

5th. The principle of Unity — all plurality supposes a unity as its basis and 
ground. 

^ Cudworth's "Intellectual System," vol. ii. p. 161. 

* " Timaeus," ch. ix. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 359 

which had been bequeathed by previous schools of philosophy, 
or were now offered by contemporaneous speculators, and 
showed they were utterly inadequate to the solution of the 
problem. This scrutiny consisted in searching for the ground 
of " contradiction '" with regard to each opinion founded on 
sensation, and showing that opposite views were equally ten- 
able. It inquired on what ground these opinions were main- 
tained, and what consequences flowed therefrom, and it showed 
that the grounds upon which " opinion " was founded, and the 
conclusions which were drawn from it, were contradictory, and 
consequently untrue.'^ "They," the Dialecticians, "examined 
the opinions of men as if they were error ; and bringing them 
together by a reasoning process to the same point, they placed 
them by the side of each other ; and by so placing, they show- 
ed that f/ze opinions are at one and the same time contrary to them- 
selveSy about the same things^ with reference to the same circum- 
stances., and according to the same premises. ^^^ And inasmuch as 
the same attribute can not, at the same time, be affirmed and 
denied of the same subject,* therefore a thing can not be at 
once "changeable" and "unchangeable," "movable" and "im- 
movable," "generated" and "eternal."^ The objects of sense, 
however generalized and classified, can only give the contin- 
gent, the relative, and the finite ; therefore the permanent 
ground and sufficient reason of all phenomenal existence can 
not be found in opinions and judgments founded upon sen- 
sation. 

The dialectic process thus consisted almost entirely of refu- 
tation^ or what both he and Aristotle denominated elenchus 
{^i\Eyyoq)—2. process of reasoning by which the contradictory 

^ " The Dialectitian is one who syllogistically infers the contradictions 
implied in popular opinions." — Aristotle, " Sophist," §§ i, 2. 

^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xiii. 

^ " Sophist," § 33 ; " Republic,^' bk. iv. ch. xii. 

* See the "Phsedo," § 119, and "Republic," bk. iv. ch. xiii., where the 
Law of Non-contradiction is announced. 

'' " Parmenides," § 3. 

^ " Confutation is the greatest and chiefest of purification." — " Sophist," 
§34. 



360 CHRISTIANITY AND 

of a given proposition is inferred. " When refutation had done 
its utmost, and all the points of difficulty and objection had 
been fully brought out, the dialectic method had accomplished 
its purpose ; and the affirmation which remained, after this dis- 
cussion, might be regarded as setting forth the truth of the 
question under consideration ;"^ or in other words, when a sys- 
tem of error is destroyed by refutation^ the contradictory opposite 
principle^ with its logical developments^ must be accepted as an es- 
tablished truth. 

By the application of this method, Plato had not only ex- 
posed the insufficiency and self-contradiction of all results ob- 
tained by a mere d posteriori generalization of the simple facts 
of experience, but he demonstrated, as a consequence, that we 
are in possession of some elements of knowledge which have 
not been derived from sensation ; that there are, in all minds, 
certain notions, principles, or ideas, which have been furnished 
by a higher faculty than sense ; and that these notions, princi- 
ples, or ideas, transcend the limits of experience, and reveal 
the knowledge of real being — to ovtcjq ov — Being in se. 

To determine what these principles or ideas are, Plato now 
addresses himself to the analysis of thought. " It is the glory 
of Plato to have borne the light of analysis into the most ob- 
scure and inmost region ; he searched out what, in this totality 
which forms consciousness, is the province of reason; what 
comes from it, and not from the imagination and the senses — 
from within, and not from without.'"^ Now to analyze is to de- 
compose, that is, to divide, and to define, in order to see better 
that which really is. The chief logical instruments of the dia- 
lectic method are, therefore. Division and Definition. "The 
being able to divide according to genera, and not to consider 
the same species as different, nor a different as the same,"^ and 
"to see under one aspect, and bring together under one general 
idea, many things scattered in various places, that, by defifiijig 

^ Article " Plato," Encyclopsedia Britannica. 

^ Cousin's " Lectures on the History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 328. 

''"Sophist," §83. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 361 

each, a person may make it clear what the subject is," is, ac- 
cording to Plato, "dialectical."^ 

We have already seen that, in his first efforts at applying 
reflection to the concrete phenomena of consciousness, Plato 
had recognized two distinct classes of cognitions, marked by 
characteristics essentially opposite; — one oi ^^ sensible^^ objects 
having a definite outline, limit, and figure, and capable of being 
imaged and represented to the mind in a determinate form — 
the other of ^^ intelligible ^^ objects, which can not be outlined 
or represented in the memory or the imagination by any figures 
or images, and are, therefore, the objects of purely rational 
conception. He found, also, that we arrive at one class of cog- 
nitions " mediately " through images generated in the vital or- 
ganism, or by some testimony, definition, or explication of 
others ; whilst we arrive at the other class " immediately" by 
simple intuition, or rational apperception. The mind stands 
face to face with the object, and gazes directly upon it. The 
reality of that object is revealed in its own light, and we find it 
impossible to refuse our assent — that is, it is self-evident. One 
class consisted of cofitingent ideas — that is, their objects are 
conceived as existing, with the possibility, without any contra- 
diction, of conceiving of their non-existence ; the other consisted 
of necessary ideas — their objects are conceived as existing with 
the absolute impossibility of conceiving of their non-existence. 
Thus we can conceive of this book, this table, this earth, as not 
existing, but we can not conceive the non-existence of space. 
AVe can conceive of succession in time as not existing, but we 
can not, in thought, annihilate duration. We can imagine this 
or that particular thing not to have been, but we can not con- 
ceive of the extinction of Being in itself He further observed, 
that one class of our cognitions are conditional ideas ; the ex- 
istence of their objects is conceived only on the supposition of 
some antecedent existence, as for example, the idea of qualities, 
phenomena, events ; whilst the other class of cognitions are 
unconditional and absolute — we can conceive of their objects as 
> *«Ph3edrus," §§ 109, iii. 



362 CHBISTIANITT AND 

existing independently and unconditionally — existing whether 
any thing else does or does not exist, as space, duration, the 
infinite, Being in se. And, finally, whilst some ideas appear in 
us as particular and individual^ determined and modified by 
our own personality and liberty, there are others which are, in 
the fiillest sense, universal They are not the creations of our 
own minds, and they can not be changed by our own volitions. 
They depend upon neither times, nor places, nor circumstances ; 
they are common to all minds, in all times, and in all places. 
These ideas are the witnesses in our inmost being that there 
is something beyond us, and above us ; and beyond and above 
all the contingent and fiigitive phenomena around us. (^eneath 
all changes there is a permanent being. (Beyond all finite and 
conditional existence there is something uncojiditional and abso- 
lute. Having determined that there are truths which are inde- 
pendent of our own minds — truths which are not individual, 
but universal — truths which would be truths even if our minds 

I did not perceive them, we are led onward to a jz/^^rsensual 
and stipemsitmal ground, on which they rest. 

^^ To reach this objective reality on which the ideas of reason 
repose, is the grand effort of Plato's dialectic. He seeks, by a 
rigid analysis, clearly to separate, and accurately to define the d 

priori conceptions of reason. And it was only when he had 
eliminated every element which is particular, contingent, and 
relative, and had defined the results in precise and accurate 
language, that he regarded the process as complete. The 
ideas which are self-evident, universal, and necessary, were then 
clearly disengaged, and raised to their pure and absolute form. 
"You call the man dialectical who requires a reason of the 
essence or being of each thing. As the dialectical man can 
define the essence of every thing, so can he of the good. He 
can define the idea of the good, separating it from all others — 
follow it through all windings, as in a battle, resolved to mark 
it, not according to opinion, but according to science."^ 

Abstraction is thus the process, the instrument of the Platon- 
* " Republic," bk. vii. ch. xiv. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 7,6^ 

ic dialectic. It is important, however, that we should distin- 
guish between the method of comparative abstraction, as em- 
ployed in physical inquiry, and that immediate abstraction, 
which is the special instrument of philosophy. The former 
proceeds by comparison and generalization, the latter by sim- 
ple separation. The one yields a contingent general principle 
as the result of the comparison of a number of individual cases, 
the other gives an universal and necessary principle by the 
analysis of a single concrete fact. As an illustration we may 
instance " the principle of causality." To enable us to affirm 
" that every event must have a cause," we do not need to com- 
pare and generalize a great number of events. " The principle 
which compels us to pronounce the judgment is already com- 
plete in the first as in the last event ; it can change in regard 
to its object, it can not change in itself j it neither increases 
nor decreases with the greater or less number of applications."^ 
In the presence of a single event, the universality and necessi- 
ty of this principle of causality is recognized with just as much 
clearness and certainty as in the presence of a million events, 
however carefully generalized. 

Abstraction, then, it will be seen, creates nothing ; neither 
does it add any new element to the store of actual cognitions 
already possessed by all human minds. It simply brings for- 
ward into a clearer and more definite recognition, that which 
necessarily belongs to the mind as part of its latent furniture, 
and which, as a law of thought, has always unconsciously gov- 
erned all its spontaneous movements. As a process of rational 
inquiry, it was needful to bring the mind into intelligible and 
conscious communion with the world of Ideas. These ideas 
are partially revealed in the sensible world, all things being 
formed, as Plato believed, according to ideas as models afid 
exemplars, of which sensible objects are the copies. They are 
more fully manifested in the constitution of the human mind 
which, by virtue of its kindred nature with the original essence 
or being, must know them intuitively and immediately. And 
^ Cousin's "The True, the Beautiful, and the Good," pp. 57, 58. 



364 CHRISTIANITY AND 

they are brought out fully by the dialectic process, which dis- 
engages them from all that is individual and phenomenal, and 
sets them forth in their pure and absolute form. 

But whilst Plato has certainly exhibited the true method of 
investigation by which the ideas of reason are to be separated 
from all concrete phenomena and set clearly before the mind, 
he has not attempted a complete enumeration of the ideas of 
reason ; indeed, such an enumeration is still the grand desid- 
eratum of philosophy. We can not fail, however, in the care- 
ful study of his writings, to recognize the grand Triad of Abso- 
lute Ideas — ideas which Cousin, after Plato, has so fully exhib- 
ited, viz., the True, the Beautiful, and the Good. 

PLATONIC SCHEME OF IDEAS. 

I. The idea <7/"Absolute Truth or Reality {to aXrjdeQ — to 6v) 
— the ground and efficient cause of all existence, and by par- 
ticipating in which all phenomenal existence has only so far a 
reality, sensible things being merely shadows and resemblances 
of ideas. This idea is developed in the human intelligence in 
its relation with the phenomenal world ; as, 

1. TAe idea ^Substance (ovala) — the ground of all phe- 
nomena, " the being or essence of all things," the permanent 
reality. — "Timaeus," ch. ix. and xii. ; "Republic," bk. vii. ch. 
xiv.; "Phaedo," §§ 63-67, 73. 

2. T/ie idea of (Zkv^^ (aiTia) — the power or efficiency by 
which things that "become," or begin to be, are generated 
or produced. — "Timceus," ch. ix. j "Sophist," § 109; "Phi- 
lebus," §§ 45, 46. 

3. T/ie idea <?/" Identity (avro to "ktov) — that which "does 
not change," " is always the same, simple and uniform, in- 

'composite and indissoluble," — that which constitutes per- 
sonality or self-hood.— "Phaedo," §§ 61-75 ; "Timasus," ch. 
ix. ; " Republic," bk. ii. ch. xix. and xx. 

4. The idea ^ Unity {to 'iv) — one mi7id or intelligence 
pervading the universe, the comprehensive conscious thought 
or plan which binds all parts of the universe in one great 



OBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 365 

whole (ro Trav) — the principle oi order. — *'Timaeus," ch. xi. 
and XV.; " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xiii. ; "Philebus/' §§ 50-51. 
5. The idea of the Infinite {to uTreipov) — that which is un- 
limited and unconditioned, "has no parts, bounds, no be- 
ginning, nor middle, nor end." — " Parmenides," §§ 22, 23. 

II. The idea ^Absolute Beauty {to kolKov) — the formal 
caiise of the universe, and by participation in which all created 
things have only so far a real beauty. — " Timaeus," ch. xi. ; 
"Greater Hippias," §§ 17, 18; " Repubhc," bk. v. ch. 22. 

This idea is developed in the human intelligence in its re- 
lation to the organic world ; as, 

1. The idea ^t/" Proportion or Symmetry {av^yLZT^la) — the 
proper relation of parts to an organic whole resulting in a 
harmony (Kotrfiog), and which relation admits of mathemat- 
ical expression. — "Timaeus," ch. Ixix. ; "Philebus," § 155 
("Timseus," ch. xi. and xii., where the relation of numerical 
proportions to material elements is expounded). 

2. The idea of Determinate Form {ja^aleiy^a apyirvrroq) 
— the eternal models or archetypes according to which all 
things are framed, and which admit of geometrical represen- 
tation.—" Timaeus," ch. ix. ; " Phaedo," § 1 12 (" Tim^us," ch. 
xxviii.-xxxi,, where the relation of geometrical forms to ma- 
terial elements is exhibited). 

3. The idea ^Rhythm {^vQ^ioq) — measured movement in 
time and space, resulting in melody and grace.^" Repub- 
lic," bk. iii. ch. xi. and xii.; "Philebus," § 21. 

4. The idea ^Fitness or Adaptation (xprimi^ov) — effect- 
iveness to some purpose or end. — " Greater Hippias," § 35. 

5. The idea ^Perfection (reXEiorrjg) — that which is com- 
plete, " a structure which is whole and finished — of whole 
and perfect parts." — "Timaeus," ch. xi,, xii., and xliii. 

HI. The idea ^Absolute Good {to ayadov) — the final eaiise 
or reason of all existence, the sun of the invisible world, that 
pours upon all things the revealing light of truth. 



366 CHRISTIANITY AND 

The first Good^ {sunimu7n bonwn) is God the highest, and 
Mind or Intelligence (voue), which renders man capable of 
knowing and resembling God. The second flows from the 
first, and are virtues of mind. They are good by a participa- 
tion of the chief good, and constitute in man a likeness or re- 
se7nblance to God. — " Phaedo," §§ i lo-i 14 ; " Laws," bk. i. ch. vi., 
bk. iv. ch. viii. ; " Theaetetus," §§ 84, 85 ; " Republic," bk. vi. ch. 
xix., bk. vii. ch. iii., bk. x. ch. xii.'^ • 

This idea is developed in the human intelligence in its rela- 
tion to the world of moral order ; as, 

1. The idea ^Wisdom or Prudence {(^^ov-qaiq) — thought- 
fulness, Tightness of intention, following the guidance of rea- 
son, the right direction of the energy or will. — " Republic," 
bk. iv. ch. vii., bk. vi. ch. ii. 

2. The idea <?/'Courage or Fortitude {avl^la) — zeal, en- 
ergy, firmness in the maintenance of honor and right, virtu- 
ous indignation against wrong. — " Republic," bk. iv. ch. viii. ; 
" Laches ;" " Meno," § 24. 

3. The idea ^Self-control or Temperance (awtppoarvvr]) 
— sound-mindedness, moderation, dignity. — " Republic," bk. 
iv. ch. ix. ; " Meno," § 24 ; " Phaedo," § 35. 

4. The idea ^Justice i^iKaioa'vvr\) — the harmony or per- 
fect proportional action of all the powers of the soul. — " Re- 
public," bk. i. ch. vi., bk. iv. ch. x.-xii., bk. vi. ch. ii. and xvi. ;, 
" Philebus," § 155 j " PhiEdo," § 54 ; " Theaetetus," §§ 84, 85. 

Plato's idea of Justice comprehends — 

(i.) Equity (to-oT-T^c)— the rendering to every man his 
due. — " Republic," bk. i. ch. vi. 

* " Let us declare, then, on what account the framing Artificer settled the 
formation of the universe. He was good ;" and being good, " he desired 
that all things should as micch as possible resemble himself." — " Timaeus," ch. x. 

^ "At the utmost bounds of the intellectual world is the idea of the Good, 
perceived with difficulty, but which, once seen, makes itself known as the 
cause of all that is beautiful and good ; which in the visible world produces 
light, and the orb that gives it ; and which in the invisible world directly 
produces Truth and Intelligence." — " Republic," bk. vii. ch. iii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 367 

(2.) Veracity (aX//0£ia) — the utterance of what is true. 
— " RepubHc," bk. i. ch. v., bk. ii. ch. xx., bk. vi. ch. ii. 

(3.) Faithfulness {nKTroT-qQ) — the strict performance 
of a trust. — " RepubHc," bk. i. ch. v., bk. vi. ch. ii. 

(4.) Usefulness {m^eXijiov) — the answering of some 
vakiable end. — "RepubHc," bk. ii. ch. xvni., bk. iv. ch. 
xviii. ; "Meno," § 22. 

(5.) Benevolence {evvolo) — seeking the weU-being of 
others. — " RepubHc," bk. i. ch. xvii., bk. n. ch. xviii. 

(6.) Holiness {bawrriQ) — purity of mind, piety. — "Pro- 
tagoras," §§ 52-54 ; " Phaedo," § 32 ; " The^etetus," § 84. 

The final effort of Plato's Dialectic was to ascend from these 
ideas of Absolute Truth, and Absolute Beauty, and Absolute 
Goodness to the Absolute Being, in whom they are all united, 
and from whom they all proceed. " He who possesses the true 
love of science is naturally carried in his aspirations to the 
real Being ; and his love, so far from suffering itself to be re- 
tarded by the multitude of things whose reality is only appar- 
ent, knows no repose until it have arrived at union with the 
esse?ice of each object, by the part of the soul which is akin to 
the permanent and essential ; so that this divine conjunction 
having produced intelligence and truth, the knowledge of beijig 
is won."^ 

To the mind of Plato, there was in every thing, even the 
smallest and most insignificant of sensible objects, a reality just 
in so far as it participates in some archetypal form or idea. 
These archetypal forms or ideas are the " thoughts of God'''^ — 
they are the plan according to which he framed the universe. 
"The Creator and Father of the universe looked to an eternal 
model: . . . Being thus generated, the universe is framed ac- 
cording to principles that can be comprehended by reason and 
reflection."^ Plato, also, regarded all individual conceptions 
of the mind as hypothetical notions which have in them an a 

^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. v. ^ Alcinous, " Doctrines of Plato," p. 262. 

^ " Timaeus," ch. ix. 



368 CHRISTIANITY AND 

priori element — an idea which is unchangeable, universal, and 
necessary/ These unchangeable, universal, and necessary ideas 
are copies of the Divine Ideas, which are, for man, the primor- 
dial laws of all cognition, and all reasoning. They are pos- 
sessed by the soul "in virtue of its kindred nature to that 
which is permanent, unchangeable, and eternal." He also be- 
lieved that every archetypal form, and every d priori idea, has 
its ground and root in a higher idea, which is unhypothetical 
and absolute — an idea which needs no other supposition for 
its explanation, and which is, itself, needful to the explanation 
of all existence — even the idea of an absolute and perfect Beings 
in whose mind the ideas of absolute truth, and beauty, and 
goodness inhere, and in whose eternity they can only be re- 
garded as eternal.^ Thus do the "ideas of reason" not only 
cast a bridge across the abyss that separates the sensible and 
the ideal world, but they also carry us beyond the limits of our 
personal consciousness, and discover to us a realm of real Be- 
ing, which is the foundation, and cause, and explanation of the 
phenomenal world that appears around us and within us. 

This passage from psychology to ontology is not achieved 
per saltunij or effected by any arbitrary or unwarrantable as- 
sumption. There are principles revealed in the centre of our 
consciousness, whose regular development carry us beyond the 
limits of consciousness, and attain to the knowledge of actual 
being. The absolute principles of causality and substance, of 
intentionality and unity, unquestionably give us the absolute Be- 
ing. Indeed the absolute truth that every idea supposes a being 
in which it resides, and which is but another form of the law or 
principle of substance, viz., that every quality supposes a sub- 
stance or being in which it inheres, is adequate to carry us from 
Idea to Being. " There is not a single cognition which does 
not suggest to us the notion of existence, and there is not an 
unconditional and absolute truth which does not necessarily 
imply an absolute and unconditional Being. "^ 

* Maurice's "Ancient Philosophy," p. 149. 
' Cousin's " Elements of Psychology," p. 506. 



GBEJEK PHILOSOPHT. 369 

This, then, is the dialectic of Plato. Instead of losing him- 
self amid the endless variety of particular phenomena, he would 
search for principles and laws, and from thence ascend to the 
great Legislator, the First Principle of all Principles. Instead 
of stopping at the relations of sensible objects to the general 
ideas with which they are commingled, he will pass to their 
eternal Paradigms — from the just thing to the idea of absolute 
justice, from the particular good to the absolute good, from 
beautiful things to the absolute beauty, and thence to the ulti- 
mate reality — the absolute Being. By the realization of the 
lower idea, embodied in the forms of the visible universe and 
in the necessary laws of thought, he sought to rise to the higher 
idea, in its pure and abstract form — the Supreme Idea, contain- 
ing in itself all other ideas — the One Intelligence which unites 
the universe in a harmonious whole. "The Dialectic faculty 

proceeds from hypothesis to an unhypothetical principle 

It uses hypotheses as steps, and starting-points, in order to 
proceed from thence to the absolute. The Intuitive Reason 
takes hold of the First Principle of the Universe, and avails it- 
self of all the connections and relations of that principle. It 
ascends from idea to idea, until it has reached the Supreme 
Idea" — the Absolute Good— that is, God.^ 

We are thus brought, in the course of our examination of the 
Platonic method, to the results obtained by this method — or, in 
other words, to 

III. THE PLATONIC ONTOLOGY. 

The grand object of all philosophic inquiry in ancient 
Greece was to attain to the knowledge of real Being — that Be- 
ing which is permanent, unchangeable, and eternal. It had 
proceeded on the intuitive conviction, that beneath all the end- 
less diversity of the universe there must be a principle of unity 
— below all fleeting appearances there must be a permanent 
substance — beyond all this everlasting flow and change, this 
beginning and end of finite existence, there must be an eternal 
^ *' Republic," bk. vi. ch. xx. and xxi. 
24 



370 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



Being, which is the cause, and which contains, in itself, the 
7'eason of the order, and harmony, and beauty, and excellency 
which pervades the universe. And it had perpetually asked 
what is this permanent, unchangeable, and eternal substance 
or being ? 

Plato had assiduously labored at the solution of this prob- 
lem. The object of his dialectic was " to lead upward the 
soul to the knowledge of real being,"^ and the conclusions to 
which he attained may be summed up as follows : 

I St. Beneath all s^^?,1'SL'E ■phenomena there is an unchangeable 
subject-matter, the mysterious substratum of the world of sense, 
which he calls the receptacle {y-Koloyji) the nurse (Ttdijyr]) of all that 
is produced? 

It is this " substratum or physical groundwork " which gives 
a reality and definiteness to the evanescent phantoms of sense, 
for, in their ceaseless change, they can not justify any title what- 
ever. It alone can be styled '■^this^'' or ^^that" {role or tovto); 
they rise no higher than ^^ of such kind^^ or ^^ of 7v hat kind or 
quality^'' (toiovtov or otzoiovovv tl).'^ It is not earth, or air, or fire, 
or water, but " an invisible species and formless universal re- 
ceiver, which, in the most obscure way, receives the immanence 
of the intelligible."* And in relation to the other two principles 
(i. e., ideas and objects of sense), "it is the mother" to the fa- 
ther and the offspring.* But perhaps the most remarkable pas- 
sage is that in which he seems to identify it with pure space, 
which, " itself imperishable, furnishes a seat (edpav) to all that is 
produced, not apprehensible by direct perception, but caught 
by a certain spurious reasoning, scarcely admissible, but which 
we see as in a dream ; gaining it by that judgment which pro- 
nounces it necessary that all which is, be somewhere, and occu- 
py a certain space."^ This, it will be seen, approaches the Car- 
tesian doctrine, which resolves matter into simple extension^ 

^ " Republic," bk. vii. ch. xii. and xiii. "^ " Timaeus," ch. xxii. 

^ " Timaeus," ch. xxiii. ■* Ibid., ch. xxiv. 

^ Ibid., ch. xxiv. ® Ibid., ch. xxvi. 

' Butler's "Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 171. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 371 

It should, however, be distinctly noted that Plato does not 
use the word v\r) — matter. This term is first employed by 
Aristotle to express "the substance which is the subject of all 
changes."* The subject or substratum of which Plato speaks, 
would seem to be rather a logical than a material entity. It 
is the condition or suppositio7i necessary for the production of a 
world of phenomena. It is thus the transition-element between 
the real and the apparent, the eternal and the contingent; and, 
lying thus on the border of both territories, we must not be sur- 
prised that it can hardly be characterized by any definite at- 
tribute.'"* Still, this unknown recipient of forms or ideas has 
2. reality; it has "an abiding nature," "a constancy of exist- 
ence ;" and we are forbidden to call it by any name denoting 
quality, but permitted to style it ^^this" and '■'■that^^ (rode Kai 
TovTo).^ Beneath the perpetual changes of sensible phenomena 
there is, then, an unchangeable subject, which yet is neither 
the Deity, nor ideas, nor the soul of man, which exists as the 
means and occasion of the manifestation of Divine Intelligence 
in the organization of the world.* 

There has been much discussion as to whether Plato held 
that this ^^ Receptacle ^^ and ^^ Nurse ^^ of forms and ideas was 
eternal, or generated in time. Perhaps no one has more care- 
fully studied the writings of Plato than William Archer Butler, 
and his conclusions in regard to this subject are presented in 
the following words : " As, on the one hand, he maintained a 
strict system of dualism, and avoided, without a single devia- 
tion, that seduction of pantheism to which so many abstract 
speculators of his own school have fallen victims ; so, on the 
other hand, it appears to me that he did not scruple to place 
this principle, the opposite of the Divine intelligence, in a 
sphere independent of temporal origination. . . . But we can 
scarcely enter into his views, unless we ascertain his notions 
of the nature of Time itself This was considered to have been 



" Metaphysics," bk. vii. ch. i. 

Butler's "Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 178. 

** Timasus," ch. xxiii. * Ibid., ch. xliii. 



372 CHRISTIANITY AXB 

created with the rest of the sensible world, to finish with it, if 
it ever finished — to be altogether related to this phenomenal 
scene.^ 'The generating Father determined to create a mov- 
ing image of eternity {alibvoQ) ; and in disposing the heavens, 
he framed of this eternity, reposing in its own unchangeable 
unity, an eternal image, moving according to numerical succes- 
sion, which he called Time. With the world arose days, nights, 
months, years, which all had no previous existence. The past 
and future are but forms of time, which we most erroneously 
transfer to the eternal substance {aihov ovmav) ; we say it was, 
and is, and will be, whereas we can only fitly say it is. Past 
and future are appropriate to the successive nature of generated 
beings, for they bespeak motion ; but the Being eternally and 
immovably the same is subject neither to youth nor age, nor 
to any accident of time ; it neither was, nor hath been, nor will 
be, which are the attributes of fleeting sense — the circum- 
stances of time, imitating eternity in the shape of number and 
motion. Nor can any thing be more inaccurate than to apply 
the term real being to past, or present, or future, or even to 
non-existence. .Of this, however, we can not now speak fully. 
Time, then, was formed with the heavens, that, together created, 
they may together end, if indeed an end.be in the purpose of the 
Creator; and it is designed as closely as possible to resemble 
the eternal nature, its exemplar. The model exists through all 
eternity ; the world has been, is, and will be through all time'"^ 

In this ineffable eternity Plato places the Supreme Being, 

and the archetypal ideas of which the sensible world of time 
partakes. Whether he also includes under the same mode of 
existence the subject-matter of the sensible w^orld, it is not easy 
to pronounce ; and it appears to me evident that he did not 
himself undertake to speak with assurance on this obscure 
problem."^ The creation of matter "out of nothing" is an 
idea which, in all probability, did not occur to the mind of 
Plato. But that he regarded it as, in some sense, a dependent 

' See ante, note 4, p. 349. "^ " Timaeus," ch, xiv. 

' Butler's "Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 171-175. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 373 

existence — as existing, like time, by " the purpose or will of the 
Creator" — perhaps as an eternal "generation" from the "eter- 
nal substance," is also highly probable ; for in the last analysis 
he evidently desires to embrace all things in some ultimate 
unity — a tendency which it seems impossible for human reason 
to avoid. 

2d. Beneath all mental phenomena there is a permanent subject 
or substratum which he designates the identical {to avro) — the 
rational element of the soul — " the principle of self -activity ^^ or self- 
determination.^ 

There are three principles into which Plato analyzes the 
soul — the principle of the Identical, the Diverse, and the Inter- 
mediate Essence^ The first is indivisible and eternal, always 
existing in sameness, the very substance of Intelligence itself, and 
of the same nature with the Divine.' The second is divisible 
and corporeal, answering to our notion of the passive sensibili- 
ties, and placing the soul in relation with the visible world. 
The third is an intermediate essence, partaking of the natures 
of both, and constituting a medium between the eternal and 
the mutable — the conscious energy of the soul developed in the 
contingent world of time. Thus the soul is, on one side, linked 
to the unchangeable and the eternal, being formed of that in- 
effable element which constitutes the real or immutable Being, 
and on the other side, linked to the sensible and the contin- 
gent, being formed of that element which is purely relative and 
contingent. This last element of the soul is regarded by Plato 
as "mortal" and "corruptible," the former element as "im- 
mortal" and "indestructible," having its foundations laid in 
eternity. 

This doctrine of the eternity of the free and rational element 
of the soul must, of course, appear strange and even repulsive 
to those who are unacquainted with 'the Platonic notion of 
eternity as a fixed state out of time, which has no past, present, 

^ "Laws," bk. x. ch. vi. and vii. ; " Phaedrus," § 51 ; '■'' agxh Kivijaeug.^'' 
^ " Timseus," ch. xii. ; Tavrov, ddrepov, and ovoia or to cv/xiLitcyd/xevov. 
^ " Laws," bk. v. ch. i. 



374 CHRISTIANITY AND 

or future, and is simply that which " always is " — an everlasting 
now. The soul, in its elements of rationality and freedom, has 
existed anterior to time, because it now exists in eternit}'/ In 
its actual manifestations and personal history it is to be con- 
templated as a " generated being," having a commencement in 
time. 

Now, that the human soul, like the uncreated Deity, has al- 
ways had a distinct, conscious, personal, independent being, 
does not appear to be the doctrine of Plato. He teaches, most 
distinctly, that the " divine," the immortal part, was created, or 
rather "generated," in eternity. "The Deity Yumsoii for7ned 
the divine^ and he delivered over to his celestial offspring [the 
subordinate and generated gods] the task oi forming the inortal. 
These subordinate deities, copying the example of their par- 
ent, and receiving from his hands the immortal principle of the 
human soul, fashioned subsequently to this the mortal body, 
which they consigned to the soul as a vehicle, and in which 
they placed another kind of soul, mortal, the seat of violent 
and fatal affections."' He also regarded the soul as having a 
derived and dependent existence. He draws a marked dis- 
tinction between the divine and human forms of the " self-mov- 
ing principle," and makes its continuance dependent upon the 
will and wisdom of the Almighty Disposer and Parent, of 
whom it.is "the first-born offspring."' 

That portion of the soul which Plato regarded as "immor- 
tal" and "to be entitled divine," is thus the '•^offspring ofGod^^ 
— a ray of the Divinity "generated " by, or emanating from, the 
Deity. He seems to have conceived it as co-eternal with its 
ideal objects, in some mysterious ultimate unity. "The true 
foundation of the Platonic theory of the constitution of the soul 
is this fundamental principle of his philosophy — the onejtess of 
truth and knowledge!^ This led him naturally to derive the ra- 

^ See ante, note 4, p. 349, as to the Platonic notions of "Time" and 
" Eternity." 

^ " Timaeus," ch. xliv. 

^ vSee the elaborate exposition in ** Laws," bk. x. ch. xii. and xiii. 

* See Grant's "Aristotle," vol. i. pp. 150, 151. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 375 

tional element of the soul (that element that knows^ that pos- 
sesses the power of vo7/«tic) from the real element in things (the 
element that is — the voovfxevov) ; and in the original, the final, 
and, though imperfectly, the present state of that rational ele- 
ment, he, doubtless, conceived it united with its object in an 
eternal conjunction, or even identity. But though intelligence 
and its correlative intelligibles were and are thus combined, 
the soul is more than pure intelligence ; it possesses an element 
of personality and consciousness distinct to each individual, of 
which we have no reason to suppose, from any thing his writ- 
ings contain, Plato ever meant to deprive it."^ On the contrary, 
he not only regarded it as having now, under temporal condi- 
tions, a distinct personal existence, but he also claimed for it a 
conscious, personal existence after death. He is most earnest, 
and unequivocal, and consistent in his assertion of the doctrine 
of the immortality of the soul. The arguments which human 
reason can supply are exhibited with peculiar force and beauty 
in the " Phaedo," the " Phaedrus," and the tenth book of the 
"Republic." The most important of these arguments may be 
presented in a few words. 

1. 77ze soul is immortal^ because it is incorporeal. There are 
two kinds of existences, one compounded, the other simple ; 
the former subject to change, the latter unchangeable; one 
perceptible to sense, the other comprehended by mind alone. 
The one is visible, the other is invisible. When the soul em- 
ploys the bodily senses, it wanders and is confused ; but when 
it abstracts itself from the body, it attains to knowledge which 
is stable, unchangeable, and immortal. The soul, therefore, 
being uncompounded, incorporeal, invisible, must be indissolu- 
ble — that is to say, immortal.^ 

2. The soul is immortal, because it has an independent power 
of self-motion — that is, it has self-activity and self-determination. 
No arrangement of matter, no configuration of body, can be 
conceived as the originator of free and voluntary movement. 

^ Butler's " Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 209, note. 
. '•"Phaedo," §§61-75. 



376 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Now that which can not move itself, but derives its motion 
from something else, may cease to move, and perish. "But 
that which is self-moved, never ceases to be active, and is also 
the cause of motion to all other things that are moved." And 
"whatever is continually active is immortal." This "self-ac- 
tivity is," says Plato, " the very essence and true notion of the 
soul."^ Being thus essentially causative, it therefore partakes 
of the nature of a " principle," and it is the nature of a principle 
to exclude its contrary. That which is essentially self-active 
can never cease to be active ; that which is the cause of motion 
and of change, can not be extinguished by the change called 
death.'^ 

3. The soul is immortal, because it possesses universal, neces- 
sary, and absolute /^(f^i*, which transcend all material conditions, 
and bespeak an origin immeasurably above the body. No mod- 
ifications of matter, however refined, however elaborated, can 
give the Absolute, the Necessary, the Eternal. But the soul has 
the ideas of absolute beauty, goodness, perfection, identity, and 
duration, and it possesses these ideas in virtue of its having a 
nature which is one, simple, identical, and in some sense, eter- 
nal.^ If the soul can conceive an immortality, it can not be 
less than immortal. If, by its very nature, " it has hopes that 
will not be bounded by the grave, and desires and longings 
that grasp eternity," its nature and its destiny must correspond. 

In the concluding sections of the " Phasdo " he urges the 
doctrine with earnestness and feeling as the grand motive to a 
virtuous life, for "the reward is noble and the hope is great."* 
And in the " Laws " he insists upon the doctrine of a future 
state, in which men are to be rewarded or punished as the 
most conclusive evidence that we are under the moral govern- 
ment of God.' 

^ " Phaedrus," §§ 51-53. ' " Phaedo," §§ 1 12-128. 

" Ibid., §§ 48-57, 110-115. _ " Ibid, §§ 129-145. 

* The doctrine of Metempsychosis, or transmigration oi souls, can scarce- 
ly be regarded as part of the philosophic system of Plato. He seems to 
have accepted it as a venerable tradition, coming within the range of proba- 
bility, rather than as a philosophic truth, and it is always presented by hhn 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 377 

4. Beyond all finite existences and secondary causes^ all laws, 
ideas J and principles ^ there is an intelligence or mind, the First 
Principle of all Principles^ the Supreme Idea on which all other 
ideas are grounded; the Monarch and Lawgiver of the universe, 
the ultimate Substance from which all other things derive their be- 
ing and essence, the First and efficient Cause of all the order, and 
harmony, and beauty, and excellency, and goodness, which pervades 
the universe, who is called by way of pre-eminence and excellence the 
Supreme Good, the God (6 Oeoc), " the God over all^^ (6 kin irafft 
deoQ). 

This Supreme Mind,^ Plato taught, is incorporeal,'^ unchange- 
able,^ infinite,* absolutely perfect,^ essentially good,® unorigi- 
nated,^ and eternal.® He is " the Father, and Architect, and 
Maker of the Universe,"® " the efficient Cause of all things,"" 
" the Monarch and Ruler of the world,"" " the sovereign Mind 
that orders all things, and pervades all things,"''* " the sole 

in a highly mythical dress. Now of these mythical representations he re- 
marks in the " Phaedo " (§ 145) that "no man in his senses would dream of 
insisting that they correspond to the reality, but that, the soul having been 
shown to be immortal, this, or something like this, is true of individual souls 
or their habitations," If, as in the opinions of the ablest critics, *' the Laws " 
is to be placed amongst the last and maturest of Plato's writings, the evi- 
dence is conclusive that whatever may have been his earlier opinions, he did 
not entertain the doctrine of " Metempsychosis " in his riper years. " But 
when, on the one hand, the soul shall remain having an intercourse with di- 
vine virtue, it becomes divine pre-eminently ; and pre-eminently, after hav- 
ing been conveyed to z place entirely holy, it is changed for the better ; but 
when it acts in a contrary manner, it has, under contrary circumstances, 
placed its existence in some unholy spot. 

" ' This is the judgment of the gods, who hold Olympus.' 
"O thou young man," [know] "that the person who has become more 
wicked, departs to the more wicked souls ; but he who has become better, to 
the better both in life and in all deaths, to do and suffer what is fitting for 
the like." — " Laws," bk. x. ch. xii. and xiii. 

* " Phaedo," §§ 105-107. "^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives," bk. iii. ch. 77. 
' " Republic," bk. ii. ch. xix. ; " Timseus," ch. ix. 

* " Apeleius," bk. i. ch. v. ^ " Republic," bk. ii. ch. xx. 
® " Timaeus," ch. x. ; " Republic," bk. ii. ch. xviii. 

' " Timasus," ch. ix.-x. ® Ibid., ch. xii. 

» Ibid., ch. ix. " " Phaedo," § 105. 

" " Laws," bk. x, ch. xii. ; " Republic," bk. vii. ch. iii. ; " Philebus," § 50. 

""Philebus,"§5i. 



378 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Principle of all things,"^ and "the Measure of all things,"^ 
He is " the Beginning of all truth,'" " the Fountain of all law 
and justice,"* "the Source of all order and beauty,"^ "the 
Cause of all good ;"^ in short, " he is the Beginning, the Middle, 
and End of all things.'" 

Beyond the sensible world, Plato conceived another world 
of intelligibles or ideas. These ideas are not, however, distinct 
and independent existences. "What general notions are to 
our own minds, ideas are to the Supreme Reason {vovg (jaaikevg) ; 
they are the eternal thoughts of the Divine Intellect."® Ideas 
are not substances, they are qualities, and there must, there- 
fore, be some ultimate substance or being to whom, as attri- 
butes, they belong. "It must not be believed, as has been 
taught, that Plato gave to ideas a substantial existence. When 
they are not objects of pure conception for human reason, they 
are attributes of the Divine Reason. It is there they substan- 
tially exist. "^ These eternal laws and reasons of things indi- 
cate to us the character of that Supreme Essence of essences, 
the Being of beings. (He is not the simple aggregate of all 
laws, but he is the Author, and Sustainer, and Substance of all 
laws.) At the utmost summit of the intellectual world of Ideas 
blazes, with an eternal splendor, the idea of the Supreme Good 
from which all others emanate." This Supreme Good is "far 
beyond all existence in dignity and power, and it is that from 
which all things else derive their being and essence."" The 
Supreme Good is not the truth, nor the intelligence ; "it is the 
Father of it." In the same manner as the sun, which is the 

^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xix, ' " Laws," bk. iv. ch. viii. 

' " Republic," bk. ii. ch, xxi. * " Laws," bk. iv. ch. vii. 

^ " Philebus," § 51 ; " Timaeus," ch. x. 

' " Republic," bk. ii. ch, xviii. ; " Timaeus," ch. x. 

' " Laws," bk. iv. ch. vii. ® Thompson's " Laws of Thought," p. 1 19. 

" Cousin, " Lectures on the History of Philosophy," vol. i, p. 41 5. " There 
is no quintessential metaphysics which can prevail against common sense, 
and if such be the Platonic theory of ideas, Aristotle was right in opposing 
it. But such a theory is only a chimera which Aristotle created for the pur- 
pose of combating it." — " The True, the Beautiful, and the Good," p. 77. 

" " Republic," bk. vii. ch. iii. " Ibid., bk. vi. ch. xviii. and xix. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 379 

visible image of the good, reigns over the world, in that it il- 
lumes and vivifies it ; so the Supreme Good, of which the sun 
is only the work, reigns over the intelligible world, in that it 
gives birth to it by virtue of its inexhaustible fruitfulness/ The 
Supreme Good is God himself, and he is designated " the good " 
because this term seems most fittingly to express his essential 
character and essence.'' It is towards this superlative perfec- 
tion that the reason lifts itself; it is towards this infinite beau- 
ty the heart aspires. " Marvellous Beauty !" exclaims Plato ; 
" eternal, uncreated, imperishable beauty, free from increase 
and diminution .... beauty which has nothing sensible, noth- 
ing corporeal, as hands or face : which does not reside in any 
being different from itself, in the earth, or the heavens, or in 
any other thing, but which exists eternally and absolutely in it- 
self, and by itself; beauty of which every other beauty partakes, 
without their birth or destruction bringing to it the least in- 
crease or diminution."' The absolute being — God, is the last 
reason, the ultimate foundation, the complete ideal of all beau- 
ty. God is, par excellent, the Beautiful. 

God is therefore, with Plato, the First Principle of all Prin- 
ciples; the Divine energy or power is the efficient cause, the Di- 
vine beauty the formal cause, and the Divine goodness the 
final cause of all existence. 

The eternal unity of the principles of Order, Goodness, and 
Truth, in an ultimate reality — the eternal mind, is thus the 
fundamental principle which pervades the whole of the Platon- 
ic philosophy. And now, having attained this sublime eleva- 
tion, he looks down from thence upon the sensible, the phenom- 
enal world, and upon the temporal life of man ; and in the light 
of this great principle he attempts to explain their meaning 
and purpose. The results he attained in the former case con- 
stitute the Platonic Physics, in the latter, the Platonic Ethics, 

^ " Republic," bk. vii. ch. iii. 

' Ritter's " History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p, 275. 

^"Banquet," § 35. See Cousin, "The True, the Beautiful, and the 
Good," Lecture IV., also Lecture VII.'pp. 150-153 ; Denis, "Histoire des 
Theories et Idees Morales dans I'Antiquite," vol. i. p. 149. 



380 CHBISTIANITT AND 

I. PLATONIC PHYSICS. 

Firmly believing in the absolute excellence of the Deity, 
and regarding the Divine Goodness as the Final Cause of the 
universe, he pronounces the physical world to be an image of 
the perfection of God. Anaxagoras, no doubt, prepared the 
way for this theory. Every one who has read the " Phaedo," 
will remember the remarkable passage in which Socrates gives 
utterance to the disappointment which he had experienced 
when expecting from physical science an explanation of the 
universe. " When I was young," he said — " it is not to be told 
how eager I was about physical inquiries, and curious to know 
how the universe came to be as it is ; and when I heard that 
Anaxagoras was teaching that all was arranged by mind^ I was 
delighted with the prospect of hearing such a doctrine unfold- 
ed; I thought to myself, if he teaches that mind made every 
thing to be as it is, he will explain how it is best /or it to be, 
and show that so it is." But Anaxagoras, it appears, lost sight 
of this principle, and descended to the explanation of the uni- 
verse by material causes. " Great was my hope," says Socra- 
tes, "and equally great my disappointment."^ 

Plato accepted this suggestion of Anaxagoras with all his 
peculiar earnestness, and devoted himself to its fuller develop- 
ment. It were a vain and profitless theory, which, whilst it 
assumed the existence of a Supreme Mind, did not represent 
that mind as operating in the universe by design, and as exhib- 
iting his intelligence, and justice, and goodness, as well as his 
power, in every thing. If it be granted that there is a Supreme 
Mind, then, argued Plato, he must be regarded as " the measure 
of all things," and all things must have been framed accord- 
ing to a plan or "model" which that mind supplied. Intelli- 
gence must be regarded as having a. purpose, and as working 
towards an end, for it is this alone which distinguishes reason 
from unreason, and mind from mere unintelligent force. The 
only proper model which could be presented to the Supreme 
' " Phaedo," §§ 105, 106. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 381 

Intelligence is " the eternal and unchangeable model "^ which 
his own perfection supplies, " for he is the most excellent of 
causes."'^ Thus God is not simply the maker of the universe, 
but the model of the universe, because he designed, that it 
should be an image, in the sphere of sense, of his own perfec- 
tions — a revelation of his eternal beauty, and wisdom, and 
goodness, and truth. " God was good, and being good, he de- 
sired that the universe should, as far as possible, resemble him- 
self. Desiring that all things should be good, and, as far 

as might be, nothing evil, he took the fluctuating mass of 
things visible, which had been in orderless confusion, and re- 
duced it to order, considering this to be the better state. Now 
it was and is utterly impossible for the supremely good to form 
any thing except that which is most excellent (koXXlotov — most 
fair, most beautiful ").^ The object at which the supreme mind 
aimed being that which is " best," we must, in tracing his op- 
erations in the universe, always look for "t/ie best" in every 
thing." Starting out thus, upon the assumption that the good- 
ness of God is the final cause of the universe, Plato evolved a 
system of optimism. 

The physical system of Plato being thus intended to illus- 
trate a principle of optimism, the following results may be ex- 
pected : 

I. That it will mainly concern \\.'=>€ii^\\ki final causes. The 
universe being regarded chiefly, as indeed it is, an indication 
of the Divine Intelligence — every phenomenon will be contem- 
plated in that light. Nature is the volume in which the Deity 
reveals his own perfections ; it is therefore to be studied solely 
with this motive, that we may learn from thence the perfec- 
tion of God. " The Timceus is a series of ingenious hypotheses 
designed to deepen and vivify our sense of the harmony, and 
symmetry, and beauty of the universe, and, as a consequence, 
of the wisdom, and excellence, and goodness, of its Author.^ 

V"Tim2eus,"ch. ix. ''Ibid. ^ jbi^ ^ ^h. x. " Ibid., ch. xix. 

^ " Being is related to Becoming (the Absolute to the Contingent) as 

Truth is to Belief; consequently we must not marvel should we find it im- 



382 CHRISTIANITY AND 

"Whatever physical truths were within the author's reach, took 
their place in the general array: the vacancies were filled up 
with the best suppositions admitted by the limited science of 
the time."* And it is worthy of remark that, whilst proceeding 
by this "high d priori road," he made some startling guesses 
at the truth, and anticipated some of the discoveries of the 
modern inductive method, which proceeds simply by the obser- 
vation, comparison, and generalization of facts. Of these pro- 
phetic anticipations we may instance that of the definite pro- 
portions of chemistry,^ the geometrical forms of crystallog- 
raphy,^ the doctrine of complementary colors,* and that grand 
principle that all the highest laws of nature assume the form of 
a precise quantitative statement.^ 

2. It may be expected that a system of physics raised on 
optimistic principles will be mathematical rather than experi- 
mental. " Intended to embody conceptions of proportion and 
harmony, it will have recourse to that department of science 
which deals with the proportions in space and number. Such 
applications of mathematical truths, not being raised on ascer- 
tained facts, can only accidentally represent the real laws of 
the physical system ; they will, however, vivify the student's ap- 
prehension of harmony in the same manner as a happy parable, 
though not founded in real history, will enliven his perceptions 
of moral truth."' 

3. Another peculiarity of such a system will be an impatience 
of every merely mechanical theory of the operations of nature. 

possible to arrive at any certain and conclusive results in- our speculations 
upon the creation of the visible universe and its authors ; it should be 
enough for us if the account we have to give be as probable as any other, 
remembering that we are but men, and therefore bound to acquiesce in 
merely probable results, without looking for a higher degree of certainty 
than the subject admits of" — " Timaeus," ch. ix. 

^ Butler's "Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 157. 

^ "Timaeus," ch. xxxi. ^ Ibid., ch. xxvii. ■* Ibid., ch. xlii. 

^ " It is Plato's merit to have discovered that the laws of the physical 
universe are resolvable into numerical relations, and therefore capable of 
being represented by mathematical formulas." — Butler's " Lectures on An- 
cient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 163. 

' Butler's "Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 163. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 383 

" The psychology of Plato led him to recognize mind wherever 
there was motion, and hence not only to require a Deity as first 
mover of the universe, but also to conceive the propriety of 
separate and subordinate agents attached to each of its parts, 
as principles of motion, no less than intelligent directors. 
These agents were entitled ^gods ' by an easy figure, discerni- 
ble even in the sacred language,^ and which served, besides, to 
accommodate philosophical hypotheses to the popular religion. 
Plato, however, carefully distinguished between the sole. Eter- 
nal Author of the Universe, on the one hand, and that ' soul,' 
vital and intelligent, which he attaches to the world, as well as 
the spheral intelligences, on the other. These * subordinate 
deities,' though intrusted with a sort of deputed creation, were 
still only the deputies of the Supreme Framer and Director of 
all."^ The "gods" of the Platonic system are "subordinate 
divinities," "generated gods," brought into existence by the 
will and wisdom of the Eternal Father and Maker of the uni- 
verse.' Even Jupiter, the governing divinity of the popular 
mythology, is a descendant from powers which are included in 
the creation.^ The offices they fulfill, and the relations they 
sustain to the Supreme Being, correspond to those of the " an- 
gels" of Christian theology. They are the ministers of his prov- 
idential government of the world. ^ 

The application of this fundamental conception of the Pla- 
tonic systevci—the eternal unity of the principles of Order , Good- 
ness., and Truth in an ultimate reality., the Eternal Mi7td — to the 
elucidation of the tetnporal life of man, yields, as a result — 

II. THE PLATONIC ETHICS. 

Believing firmly that there are unchangeable, necessary, and 
absolute principles, which are the perfections of the Eternal 
Mind, Plato must, of course, have been a believer in an immuta- 
ble morality. He held that there is a rightness, a justice, an 

^ Psalm Ixxxii. I ; John x. 34. 

^ Butler's " Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 164. 

3 " Timaeus," ch. xv. ^ Ibid. ^ " Laws," bk. x. 



384 CHRISTIANITY AND 

equity, not arbitrarily constituted by the Divine will or legisla- 
tion, but founded in the nature of God, and therefore eternal. 
The independence of the principles of morality upon the mere 
will of the Supreme Governor is proclaimed in all his writings/ 
The Divine will is the fountain of efficiency, the Divine reason, 
the fountain of law. God is no more the creator of virtue than 
he is the creator of truth. 

And inasmuch as man is a partaker of the Divine essence, 
and as the ideas which dwell in the human reason are "copies" 
of those which dwell in the Divine reason, man may rise to the 
apprehension and recognition of the immutable and eternal 
principles of righteousness, and "by communion with that 
which is Divine, and subject to the law of order, may become 
himself a subject of order, and divine, so far as it is possible for 
man.'"^ 

The attainment of this consummation is the grand purpose 
of the Platonic philosophy. Its ultimate object is " the purifica- 
tion of the soul^^ and its pervading spirit is the aspiration after 
perfection. The whole system of Plato has therefore an emi- 
nently ethical character. It is a speculative philosophy directed 
to a practical purpose. 

Philosophy is the love of wisdom. Now wisdom (irocpia) is 
expressly declared by Plato to belong alone to the Supreme 
Divinity,^ who alone can contemplate reality in a direct and 
immediate manner, and in whom, as Plato seems often to inti- 
mate, knowledge and being coincide. Philosophy is the aspi- 
ration of the soul after this wisdom, this perfect and immutable 
truth, and in its realization it is a union with the Perfect Wis- 
dom through the medium of a divine affection, the love of which 
Plato so often speaks. The eternal and unchangeable Essence 
which is the proper object of philosophy is also endowed with 
moral attributes. He is not only "the Being," but "the Good" 
(7-0 ayadov), and all in the system of the universe which can be 
the object of rational contemplation, is an emanation from that 

' In " Euthyphron" especially. ^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xiii. 

' " Phaedrus," § 145. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 385 

goodness. The love of truth is therefore the love of Good, and 
the love of Good is the love of truth. Philosophy and morality 
are thus coincident " Philosophy is the love of Perfect Wis- 
dom ; Perfect Wisdom and Perfect Goodness are identical ; the 
Perfect Good is God; philosophy is the Love of God "^ Ethic- 
ally viewed, it is this one motive of love for the Supreme Wis- 
dom and Goodness, predominating over and purifying and as- 
similating every desire of the soul, and governing every move- 
ment of the man, raising man to a participation of and com- 
munion with Divinity, and restoring him to "the likeness of 
God." "This flight," says Plato, "consists in resembling God 
{b^oiioffiQ Qeio), and this resemblance is the becoming just and 
holy with wisdom."^ "This assimilation to God is the enfran- 
chisement of the divine element of the soul. To approach to 
God as the substance of truth is Science; as the substance of 
goodness in truth is Wisdom, and as the substance of Beauty 
in goodness and truth is Love^^ 

The two great principles which can be clearly traced as per- 
vading the ethical system of Plato are — 

1. That no man is willingly evil^ 

2. That every man is ejidiied with the power of producing 
changes in his moral character.^ 

The first of these principles is the counterpart ethical ex- 
pression of his theory of immutable Being. The second is the 
counterpart of his theory of phenomenal change, or mere Be- 
coming. 

The soul of man is framed after the pattern of the immutable 
ideas of they^/>f/, and the true, and the good, which dwell in the 
Eternal Mind — that is, it is made in the image of God. The 
soul in its ultimate essence is formed of " the immutable " and 
"the permanent." The presence of the ideas of the just, and 
the true, and the good in the reason of man, constitute him a 

' Butler's " Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 61. . 

" '* Theaetetus," § 84. 

^ Butler's " Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 277. 

•* " Timaeus," ch. xlviii. 

' " Laws," bk. v. ch. i., bk. ix. ch. vi., bk. x. ch. xii. 

25 



386 CHRISTIANITY AND 

moral nature ; and it is impossible that he can cease to be a 
moral being, for these ideas, having a permanent and immuta- 
ble being, can not be changed. All the passions and affections 
of the soul are merely phenomenal. They belong to the mor- 
tal, the transitory life of man ; they are in endless flow and 
change, and they have no permanent reality. As phenomena, 
they must, however, have some ground j and Plato found that 
ground in the mysterious, instinctive longing for the good and 
the true which dwells in the very essence of the soul. These 
are the realities after which it strives, even when pursuing 
pleasure, and honor, and wealth, and fame. All the restless- 
ness of human life is prompted by a longing for the good. But 
man does not clearly perceive what the good really is. The ra- 
tional element of the soul has become clouded by passion and 
ignorance, and suffered an eclipse of its powers. Still, man 
longs for the good, and bears witness, by his restlessness and 
disquietude, that he instinctively desires it, and that he can find 
no rest and no satisfaction in any thing apart from the knowl- 
edge and the participation of the Supreme, the Absolute Good. 

This, then, is the meaning of the oft-repeated assertion of 
Plato ^^that 710 man is willifigly evil f viz., that no man deliber- 
ately chooses evil as evil. And Plato is, at the same time, care- 
ful to guard the doctrine from misconception. He readily 
grants that acts of wrong are distinguished as voluntary and 
involuntary, without which there could be neither merit nor de- 
merit, reward nor punishment.^ But still he insists that no 
man chooses evil in and by itself He may choose it volun- 
tarily as a means, but he does not choose it as an end. Every 
volition, by its essential nature, pursues, at least, an apparent 
good j because the end of volition is not the immediate act, 
but the object for the sake of which the act is undertaken.'' 

How is it, then, it may be asked, that men become evil ? 

The answer of Plato is, that the soul has in it a principle of 

change, in the power of regulating the desires — in indulging 

them to excess, or moderating them according to the demands 

^ " Laws," bk. ix. ch. vi. ' " Gorgias," §§ ^2, 53. 



, GREEK PHIL OSOPH Y. 387 

of reason. The circumstances in which the soul is placed, as 
connected with the sensible world by means of the body, pre- 
sent an occasion for the exercise of that power, the end of this 
temporal connection being to establish a state of moral disci- 
pline and probcrtion. The humors and distempers of the body 
likewise deprave, disorder, and discompose the soul.^ " Pleas- 
ures and pains are unduly magnified ; the democracy of the 
passions prevails; and the ascendency of reason is cast down." 
Bad forms of civil government corrupt social manners, evil 
education effects the ruin of the soul. Thus the soul is 
changed — is fallen from what it was when first it came from 
the Creator's hand. But the eternal Ideas are not utterly 
effaced, the image of God is not entirely lost. The soul may 
yet be restored by remedial measures. It may be purified 
by knowledge, by truth, by expiations, by sufferings, and by 
prayers. The utmost, however, that man can hope to do in 
this life is insufficient to fully restore the image of God, and 
death must complete the final emancipation of the rational ele- 
ment from the bondage of the flesh. Life is thus a discipline 
and a preparation for another state of being, and death the 
final entrance there.'' 

Independent of ail other considerations, virtue is, therefore, 
to be pursued as the true good of the soul. Wisdom, Forti- 
tude, Temperance, Justice, the four cardinal virtues of the Pla- 
tonic system, are to be cultivated as the means of securing the 
purification and perfection of the inner man. And the ordi- 
nary pleasures, " the lesser goods " of life, are only to be so far 
pursued as they are subservient to, and compatible with, the 
higher and holier duty of striving after "the resemblance to 
God." 

' " Gorgias," §§ 74-76. = " Phaedo," §§ 130, 131. 



388 CHRISTIANITY AND 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE PHILOSOPHERS OF ATHENS {cOfltilllied). 
THE SOCRATIC SCHOOL {co7itiniied). 

ARISTOTLE. 

ARISTOTLE was born at Stagira, a Greek colony of 
Thrace, e.g. 384. His father, Nicomachus, was a physi- 
cian in the Court of Amyntas IL, King of Macedonia, and is 
reported to have wTitten several works on Medicine and Natu- 
ral History. From his father, Aristotle seems to have inherited 
a love for the natural sciences, which was fostered by the cir- 
cumstances which surrounded him in early life, and which ex- 
erted a determining influence upon the studies of his riper years. 

Impelled by an insatiate desire for knowledge, he, at seven- 
teen years of age, repaired to Athens, the city of Plato and 
the university of the world. Plato was then absent in Sicily ; 
on his return Aristotle entered his school, became an ardent 
student of philosophy, and remained until the death of Plato, 
B.C. 348. He therefore listened to the instructions of Plato 
for twenty years. 

The mental characteristics of the pupil and the teacher were 
strikingly dissimilar. Plato was poetic, ideal, and in some de- 
gree mystical. Aristotle was prosaic, systematic, and practi- 
cal. Plato was intuitive and synthetical. Aristotle was logical 
and analytical. It was therefore but natural that, to the mind 
of Aristotle, there should appear something confused, irregular, 
and incomplete in the discourses of his master. There was a 
strange commingling of questions concerning the grounds of 
morality, and statements concerning the nature of science ; of 
inquiries concerning " real being," and speculations on the or- 
dering of a model Republic, in the same discourse. Ethics, 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 389 

politics, ontolog}', and theology, are all comprised in his Dialec- 
tic, which is, in fact, the one grand "science of the idea of the 
good." Now to the mind of Aristotle it seemed better, and 
much more systematic, that these questions should be separa- 
ted, and referred to particular heads ; and, above all, that they 
should be thoroughly discussed in an exact and settled termi- 
nology. To arrange and classify all the objects of knowledge, 
to discuss them system_atically and, as far as possible, exhaust- 
ively, was evidently the ambition, perhaps also the special 
function, of Aristotle. He would survey the entire field of hu- 
man knowledge ; he would study nature as well as humanity, 
matter as well as mind, language as well as thought ; he would 
define the proper limits of each department of study, and pre- 
sent a regular statement of the facts and principles of each 
science. And, in fact, he was the first who really separated 
the different 'sciences and erected them into distinct systems, 
each resting upon its own proper principles. He distributed 
philosophy into three branches: — (i.) Theoretic; (ii.) Efficient; 
(iii.) Practical. The Theoretic he divided into — i. Physics; 

2. Mathematics ; 3. Theology, or the Prime Philosophy — the 
science known in modern times as Metaphysics. The Efficient 
embraces what we now term the arts, as — i. Logic; 2. Rhetoric; 

3. Poetics. The Practical comprises — i. Ethics; 2. Politics. On 
all these subjects he wrote separate treatises. Thus, whilst 
Plato is the genius of abstraction, Aristotle is eminently the 
genius of classification. 

Such being the mental characteristics of the two men — their 
type of mind so opposite — we are prepared to expect that, in 
pursuing his inquiries, Aristotle would develop a different Qr- 
gano7i from that of Plato, and that the teachings of Aristotle 
will give a new direction to philosophic thought. 

ARISTOTELIAN ORGANON. 

Plato made use of psychological and logical analysis in order 
to draw from the depth of consciousness certain fundamental 
ideas which are inherent in the mind — born with it, and not 



39° 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



derived from sense or experience. These ideas he designates 
" the inteUigible species " (ra vooufieva yivrj) as opposed to " the 
visible species " — the objects of sense. Such ideas or princi- 
ples being found, he uses them as " starting-points " from 
which he may pass beyond the sensible world and ascend to 
"the absolute," that is, to God.^ Having thus, by immediate 
abstraction, attained to universal and necessary ideas, he de- 
scends to the outer world, and attempts by these ideas to con- 
struct an intellectual theory of the universe.^ 

Aristotle will reverse this process. He will commence with 
sensation, and proceed, by induction, from the known to the un- 
known. 

The repetition of sensations produces recolledioii, recollec- 
tion experience, and experience produces science^ " Science and 
art result unto men by means of experience. . . ." "Art comes 
into being when, from a number of experiences, one universal 
opinion is evolved, which will embrace all similar cases. For 
example, if you know that a certain remedy has cured Callias 
of a certain disease, and that the same remedy has produced 
the same effect on Socrates and on several other persons, that 
is Experience ; but to know that a certain remedy will cure all 
persons attacked with that disease, is Art. Experience is a 
knowledge of individual things {rCyv Kadihcaara) ; art is that of 
universals (riov KadoXov)."* 

Disregarding the Platonic notion of the unity of all Being 
in the absolute idea, he fixed his immediate attention on the 
manifoldness of the phenomenal, and by a classification of 
all the objects of experience he sought to attain to "general 
notions." Concentrating all his attention on the individual, 
the contingent, the particular, he ascends, by induction, from 
the particular to the general ; and then, by a strange paralo- 
gism, "the tmiversal" is confounded with "the general,^^ or, by 
a species of logical sleight-of-hand, the general is transmuted 
into the universal. Thus " induction is the pathway from par- 

^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. xx. ^ "Timseus," ch. ix. 

^ " Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. i. * Ibid. 



OEEEK FUILO SOPHY. 391 

ticulars to universals."^ But how universal and necessary 
principles can be obtained by a generalization of limited expe- 
riences is not explained by Aristotle. The experiences of a 
lifetime, the experiences of the whole race, are finite and lim- 
ited, and a generalization of these can only give the finite, the 
limited, and at most, the general, but not the universal. 

Aristotle admits, however, that there are ideas or principles 
in the mind which can not be explained by experience, and we 
are therefore entitled to an answer to the question — how are 
these obtained ? " Sensible experience gives us what is /lere, 
//lere, now, in such and such a manner, but it is impossible for 
it to give what is everywhere and at all times ^^ He tells us 
further, that " science is a conception of the mind engaged in 
universals, and in those things which exist of necessity, and 
since there 2X& principles of things demo?istrable and of every sci- 
ence (for science is joined with reason), it will be neither science, 
nor art, nor prudence, which discovers the principles of science; 
.... it must therefore be {vovq) pure Intellect," or the intuitive 
reason.^ He also characterizes these principles as self-evident. 
" First truths are those which obtain belief, not through others, 
but through themselves, as there is no necessity to investigate 
the ' why ' in scientific principles, but each principle ought to 
be credible by itself."* They are also necessary and eternaj. 
" Demonstrative science is from necessary principles, and those 
which 2XQper se inherent, are necessarily so in things."^ "We 
have all a conception of that which can not subsist otherwise 
than it does The object of science has a necessary exist- 
ence, therefore it is eternal. For those things which exist in 
themselves, by necessity, are all eternal."^ But whilst Aristotle 
admits that there are " immutable and first principles,"'' which 
are not derived from sense and experience — " principles which 
are the foundation of all science and demonstration, but which 

^ "Topics," bk. i. ch. xii.; " Ethics," bk. vi. ch. iii. 

^ " Post. Analytic," bk. i. ch. xxxi. ^ " Ethics," bk. vi. ch. vi. 

^ " Topics," bk. i. ch. i. ^ " Post. Analytic," bk. i. ch. vi. 

® " Ethics," bk. vi. ch. iii. ' Ibid., bk. vi. ch. xi. 



392 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



are themselves indemonstrable,"^ because self-evident, neces- 
sary, and eternal ; yet he furnishes no proper account of their 
genesis and development in the human mind, neither does he 
attempt their enumeration. At one time he makes the intellect 
itself their source, at another he derives them from sense, expe- 
rience, and induction. This is the defect, if not the inconsist- 
ency, of his method.'' 

The human mind, he tells us, has two kinds of intelligence 
— Xht passive intelligence {vovq TradrjriKog), which is the receptacle 
of forms (hKTiKov TOO e'lIovq)', aud the active intelligence {vovq 
TToirjTiKog), which impresses the seal of thought upon the data 
furnished by experience, and combines them into the unity of a 
single judgment, thus attaining "general notions."^ The pas- 
sive intelligence (the "external perception" of modern psy- 
chology) perceives the individual forms which appear in the 
external world, and the active intelligence (the intellect proper) 
classifies and generalizes according to fixed laws or principles 
inherent in itself; but of these fixed laws — Trpwm volifiara — first 
thoughts, or d priori ideas, he ofiers no proper account ; they 
are, at most, purely subjective. This, it would seem, was, in 
effect, a return to the doctrine of Protagoras and his school, 
" that man — the individual — is the measure of all things." The 
aspects under which objects present themselves in conscious- 
ness, constitute our only ground of knowledge ; we have no 
direct, intuitive knowledge of Being in se. The noetic faculty 

' " Post. Analytic," bk. i. ch. iii. 

"^ Hamilton attempts the following mode of reconciling the contradictory 
positions of Aristotle : 

" On the supposition of the mind virtually containing, antecedent to all 
experience, certain universal principles of knowledge, in the form of certain 
necessities of thinking ; still it is only by repeated and comparative experi- 
ments that we compass the certainty ; on the one hand, that such and such 
cognitions can not but be thought as necessary, native generalities ; and, on 
the other, that such and such cognitions may or may not be thought, and 
are, therefore, as contingent, factitious generalizations. To this process of 
experiment, analysis, and classification, through which we attain to a scien- 
tific knowledge of principles, it might be shown that Aristotle, not improp- 
erly, applies the term Induction.'''' — " Philosophy," p. 88. 

'= " On the Soul," ch. vi.; " Ethics," bk. vi. ch. i. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 393 

is simply a regulative faculty ; it furnishes tlie laws under which 
we compare and judge, but it does not supply any original ele- 
ments of knowledge. Individual things are the only real enti- 
ties/ and " universals " have no separate existence apart from 
individuals in which they inhere as attributes or properties. 
They are consequently pure mental conceptions, which are fixed 
and recalled by general names. He thus substitutes a species 
of conceptual-nominalism in place of the realism of Plato. It is 
true that "real being" {to uv) is with Aristotle a subject of met- 
aphysical inquiry, but the proper, if not the only subsistence, or 
ovaia, is the form or abstract nature of things. "The essence 
or very nature of a thing is inherent in Xh^form and ejiergy^^ 
The science of Metaphysics is strictly conversant about these 
abstract, intellectual forms, just as Natural Philosophy is con- 
versant about external objects, of which the senses give us in- 
formation. Our knowledge of these intellectual forms is, how- 
ever, founded upon " beliefs " rather than upon immediate in- 
tuition, and the objective certainty of science, upon the subjec- 
tive necessity of believing, and not upon direct apperception. 

The points of contrast between the two methods may now 
be presented in a few sentences. Plato held that all our cog- 
nitions are reducible to two elements — one derived from sense^ 
the other from pure reason ; one element particular, contingent, 
and relative, the other universal, necessary, and absolute. By 
an act of immediate abstraction Plato will eliminate the particu- 
lar, contingent, and relative phenomena, and disengage the 
universal, necessary, and absolute ideas which underlie and 
determine all phenomena. These ideas are the thoughts of 
the DiviYie Mind, according to which all particular and indi- 
vidual existences are generated, and, as divine thoughts, they 
are real and permanent existences. Thus by a process of im- 
mediate abstraction, he will rise from particular and contingent 
phenomena to universal and necessary principles, and from 
these to the First Principle of all principles, the First Cause 
of all causes — that is, to God. 

^ " Metaphysics," bk. vi. ch. xiii. "^ Ibid., bk. vii, ch. iii. 



3^4 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Aristotle, on the contrary, held that all our knowledge be- 
gins with " the singular," that is, with the particular and the 
relative, and is derived from sensation and experience. The 
" sensible object," taken as it is without any sifting and prob- 
ing, is the basis of science, and reason is simply the architect 
constructing science according to certain " forms " or laws in- 
herent in mind. The object, then, of metaphysical science is 
to investigate those " universal notions " under which the mind 
conceives of and represents to itself external objects, and 
speculates concerning them. Aristotle, therefore, agrees with 
Plato in teaching " that science can only be a science of uni- 
versals,"^ and "that sensation alone can not furnish us with 
scientific knowledge."^ How, then, does he propose to attain 
the knowledge of universal principles ? How will he perform 
that feat which he calls "passing from the known to the un- 
known ?" The answer is, by comparative abstraction. The uni- 
versal being constituted by a relation of the object to the think- 
ing subject, that is, by a property recognized by the intelli- 
gence alone, in virtue of which it can be retained as an object 
of thought, and compared with other objects, he proposes to 
compare^ analyze, dejine, and classify the primary cognitions, and 
thus evoke into energy, and clearly present those principles or 
forms of the intelligence which he denominate "universals." 
As yet, however, he has only attained to "general notions," 
which are purely subjective, that is, to logical definitions, and 
these logical definitions are subsequently elevated to the dig- 
nity of " universal principles and causes " by a species of phil- 
osophic legerdemain. Philosophy is thus stripped of its meta- 
physical character, and assumes a strictly logical aspect. The 
key of the Aristotelian method is therefore the 

ARISTOTELIAN LOGIC. 

Pure Logic is the science of the formal laws of thought. Its 
office is to ascertain the rules or conditions under which the 
mind, by its own constitution, reasons and discourses. The 
^ " Ethics," bk. vi. ch. vi. ' " Post. Analytic," bk. i. ch. xxxi. 



GEEEK PHILOSOPHY, 395 

office of Applied Logic — of logic as an art — is " to form and 
judge of conclusions, and, through conclusions, to establish 
proof. The conclusions, however, arise from propositions, and 
the propositions from conceptions." It is chiefly under the 
latter aspect that logic is treated by Aristotle. According to 
this natural point of view he has divided the contents of the 
logical and dialectic teaching in the different treatises of the 
Organon. 

The first treatise is the ^^ Categories'^ ox "Predicaments" — a 
work which treats of the universal determinations of Being. It 
is a classification of all our mental conceptions. As a matter 
of fact, tTie mind forms notions or conceptions about those 
natures and essences of things which present an outward image 
to the senses, or those, equally real, which utter themselves to 
the mind. These may be defined and classified ; there may 
be general conceptions to which all particular conceptions are 
referable. This classification has been attempted by Aristotle, 
and as the result we have the ten " Categories " of Substance^ 
Quantity, Quality, Relation, Time, Place, Position, Possession, 
Action, Passion. He does not pretend that this classification 
is complete, but he held these " Predicaments " to be the most 
universal expressions for the various relations of things, under 
some one of v;hich every thing might be reduced. 

The second treatise, "(9;/ Interpretation^^ investigates lan- 
guage as the expression of thought ; and inasmuch as a true 
or false thought must be expressed by the union or separa- 
tion of a subject and a predicate, he deems it necessary' to dis- 
cuss the parts of speech — the general term and the verb — and 
the modes of affirmation and denial. In this treatise he de- 
velops the nature and limitations of propositions, the mean- 
ing of contraries and contradictions, and the force of affirma- 
tions and denials m possible, contingent, and necessary matter. 

The third are the ''^Analytics,'' which show how conclusions 
are to be referred back to their principles, and arranged in the 
order of their precedence. 

The First or Prior Analytic presents the universal doctrine 



396 CHEISTIANITY AND 

of the Syllogism, its principles and forms, and teaches how we 
must reason, if we would not violate the laws of our own mind. 
The theory of reasoning, generally, with a view to accurate dem- 
onstration, depends upon the construction of a perfect syllo- 
gism, which is defined as " a discourse in which, certain things 
being laid down, something else different from the premises 
necessarily results, in consequence of their existence."^ Con- 
clusions are, according to their own contents and end, either 
Apodeictic^ which deal with necessary and demonstrable matter, 
or Dialectic^ which deal with probable matter, or Sophistical, 
which are imperfect in matter or form, and announced, decep- 
tively, as correct conclusions, when they are not. The doc- 
trine of Apodeictic conclusions is given in the '"''Posterior Ana- 
lytic,^^ that of Dialectic conclusions in the ^^Topics" and that of 
the Sophistical in the ^^Sophistical Elefichi." 

Now, if Logic is of any value as an instrument for the dis- 
covery of truth, the attainment of certitude, it must teach us 
not only how to deduce conclusions from premises, but it must 
certify to us the validity of the principles from whence we rea- 
son ; and this is attempted by Aristotle in the Posterior Ana- 
lytic. This treatise opens with the following statement: "Ail 
doctrine, and all intellectual discipline, arises from a prior or 
pre-existent knowledge. This is evident, if we survey tliem 
all j for both mathematical sciences, and also each of the arts, 
are obtained in this manner. The same holds true in the case 
of reasonings, whether through [deductive] Syllogism or through 
Inductio7i, for both accomplish the instruction they afford from 
information previously known — the former (syllogistic reason- 
ing) receiving it, as it were, from the traditions of the intelli- 
gent, the latter (inductive reasoning) manifesting the universal 
through the light of the singular."^ Induction and Syllogism 
are thus the grand instruments of logic.^ 

^ " Prior Analytic," bk. i. ch. i.; "Topics," bk. i. ch. i. 
^ " Post. Analytic," bk. i. ch. i. 

^ " We believe all things through syllogism, or from induction." — " Prior 
Analytic," bk. ii. ch. xxiii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 397 

Both these processes are based upon 'an anterior knowledge. 
" Demonstrative science must be from things true, firsts imme- 
diate, more known than, prior to, and the causes of, the conclu- 
sion, for thus there will be the appropriate first principles of 
whatever is demonstrated."^ The first principles of demon- 
stration, the material of thought, must, consequently, be sup- 
plied by some power or faculty of the mind other than that 
which is engaged in generalization and deductive reasoning. 
Whence, then, is this "anterior knowledge" derived, and what 
tests or criteria have we of its validity ? 

1. In regard to deductive or syllogistic reasoning, the views 
of Aristotle are very distinctly expressed. 

Syllogistic reasoning "proceeds from generals to particu- 
lars."^ The general must therefore be supplied as the founda- 
tion of the deductive reasoning. Whence, then, is this knowl- 
edge of "the general" derived? The answer of Aristotle is 
that the universal major proposition, out of which the conclu- 
sion of the syllogism is drawn, is itself necessarily the conclusion 
of a previous induction, and mediately or immediately an inference 
— a collection from individual objects of sensation or of self- 
consciousness. " Now," says he, " demonstration is from uni- 
versal, but induction from particulars. It is impossible, how- 
ever, to investigate universals except through induction, since 
things which are said to be from abstraction will be known 
only by induction."' It is thus clear that Aristotle makes de- 
duction necessarily dependent upon induction. He maintains that 
the highest or most universal principles which constitute the 
primary and immediate propositions of the former are furnish- 
ed by the latter. 

2. General principles being thus furnished by induction, we 
may now inquire whence, according to Aristotle, are the mate- 
rials for induction derived ? What is the character of that "an- 
terior knowledge " which is the basis of the inductive process 1 

^ ** Post. Analytic," bk. i, ch. ii. 

^ Ibid., bk. i. ch. xviii.; *' Ethics," bk. vi. ch. iii. 

^ " Post. Analytic," bk. i. ch. xviii. 



398 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Induction, says Aristotle, is " the progression from singulars 
to universals."^ It is an illation of the universal from the sin- 
gular as legitimated by the laws of thought. All knowledge, 
therefore, begins with singulars — that is, with individual ob- 
jects. And inasmuch as all knowledge begins with "individ- 
ual objects," and as the individual is constantly regarded by 
Aristotle as the "object of sense," it is claimed that his doc- 
trine is that all knowledge is derived from se?isatio?i, and that 
science and art result to man {solely) by means of experience. 
He is thus placed at the head of the empirical school of phi- 
losophy, as Plato is placed at the head of the ideal school. 

This classification, however, is based upon a very superficial 
acquaintance ^vith the philosophy of Aristotle as a whole. The 
practice, so commonly resorted to, of determining the character 
of the Aristotelian philosophy by the light of one or two pas- 
sages quoted from his "Metaphysics," is unjust both to Aris- 
totle and to the history of philosophic thought. We can not 
expect to attain a correct understanding of the views of Aris- 
totle concerning the sources and grounds of all knowledge 
without some attention to his psychology. A careful study of 
his writings will show that the terms "sensation" (a/<T0r/o-tc) and 
" experience " (efiTreipia) are employed in a much more compre- 
hensive sense than is usual in modern philosophic wTitings. 

" Sensation," in its lowest form, is defined by Aristotle as 
"an excitation of the soul through the body,"'' and, in its higher 
form, as the excitation of the soul by any object of knowledge. 
In this latter form it is used by him as synonymous with " in- 
tuition," and embraces all immediate intuitive perceptions, 
whether of sense, consciousness, or reason. " The universe is 
derived from particulars, therefore we ought to have a sensible 
perception (aiffdrjffig) of these ; and this is intellect (vovq)"^ 
Intelligence proper, the faculty of first principles, is, in certain 
respects, a sense, because it is the source of a class of truths 
which, like the perceptions of the senses, are immediately re- 

' " Post. Analytic," bk. i. ch. xviii. ^ " De Somn.," bk. i. 

* " Ethics," bk. vi. ch. xi.; see also ch. vi. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 399 

vealed as facts, to be received upon their own evidence. It 
thus answers to the "sensus communis" of Cicero, and the 
" Common Sense " of the Scottish school. Under this aspect, 
" Sense is equal to or has the force of Science."^ The term 
" Experience " is also used to denote, not merely the perception 
and remembrance of the impressions which external objects 
make upon the mind, but as co-extensive with the whole con- 
tents of consciousness — all that the mind does of its own native 
energy, as well as all that it suffers from without. It is evi- 
dently used in the Posterior Analytic (bk. ii. ch. xix.) to de- 
scribe the whole process by which the knowledge of universals 
is obtained. "From experience, or from every universal re- 
maining in the soul, the principles of art and science arise." 
The office of experience is " to furnish the principles of every 
science"^ — that is, to evoke them into energy in the mind. 
" Ex,perience thus seems to be a thing almost similar to science 
and art."^ In the most general sense, "sensation" would^thus 
appear to be the immediate perception or intuition of facts and 
principles, and " experience " the operation of the mind upon 
these facts and principles, elaborating them into scientific form 
according to its own inherent laws. The "experience" of Aris- 
totle is analogous to the "reflection" of Locke. 

So much being premised, we proceed to remark that there 
is a distinction perpetually recurring in the writings of Aristotle 
between the elements or first principles of knowledge^ which 
are "clearest in their own nature" and those which "are 
clearest to our perception."'^ The causes or principles of 
knowledge " are prior and more known to us in two ways, for 
what is prior in nature is not the same as that which is'^prior to 
us, nor that which is more known (simply in itself) the same as 
that which is more known to us. Now I call things prior and 
more known to us, those which are 7iearer to sense; and things 

' " De Cen. Anirn." = » ^xxox Analytic," bk. i. ch. xix. 

^ " Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. i. 

'^ " Ethics," bk. i. ch. iv.; " Metaphysics," bk. ii. ch. i.; " Rhetoric," bk. i. 
ch. ii.; " Prior Analytic," bk. ii. ch. xxiii. 



400 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



prior and more known simply in themselves, those which are 
remote from se?ise ; and those things are most remote which are 
especially universal^ and those nearest which are singular ; and 
these are mutually opposed."^ . Here we have a distribution of 
the first or prior elements of knowledge into two fundamentally 
opposite classes. 

(i.) The immediate or intuitive perceptions of sense. 

(ii.) The im^nediate or intuitive apperceptions of pure reason. 

The objects of sense -perception are external, individual, 
" nearest to sense," and occasionally or contingently present to 
sense. The objects of the intellect are inward, universal, and 
the essential property of the soul. They are "remote from 
sense," " prior by nature ;" they are " forms " essentially inher- 
ent in the soul previous to experience j and it is the office of 
experience to bring them forward into the light of conscious- 
ness, or, in the language of Aristotle, " to evoke them fronj po- 
tentiality into actuahty." And further, from the "prior" and 
immediate intuitions of sense and intellect, all our secondary, 
our scientific and practical knowledge is drawn by logical 
processes. 

The Aristotelian distribution of the intellectual faculties 
corresponds fully to this division of the objects of knowledge. 
The human intellect is divided by Aristotle into, 

1. The Passive or Receptive Intellect {vovq TradrjTLKog). — Its 
office is the reception of sensible impressions or images 
{^avTuajiaTa) and their retention in the mind {ij.yt)fxrj). 
These sensible forms or images are essentially immaterial. 
" Each sensorium (aladriTripiov) is receptive of the sensible 
quality without the matter, and hence when the sensibles 
themselves are absent, sensations and (pay-amat remain."^ 

2. The Active or Creative Intellect {yovq ttoitj-ikoq). — This is 
the power or faculty which, by its own inherent power, im- 
presses "form" upon the material of thought supplied by 
sense-perception, exactly as the First Cause combines it, in 
the universe, with the recipient matter. 

^ " Post. Analytic," bk. i. ch. ii. * "De Anima," bk. iii. ch. ii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 401 

" It is necessary," says Aristotle, " that these two modes 
should be opposed to each other, as matter is opposed to form, 
and to all that gives form. The receptive reason, which is as 
matter, becomes all things by receiving their forms. The cre- 
ative reason gives existence to all things, as light calls color 
into being. The creative reason transcends the body, being 
capable of separation from it, and from all things ; it is an 
everlasting existence, incapable of being mingled with matter, 
or affected by it ; prior, and subsequent to the individual mind. 
The receptive reason is necessary to individual thought, but it 
is perishable, and by its decay all memory, and therefore indi- 
viduality, is lost to the higher and immortal reason.'" 

This "Active or Creative Intellect" is again further sub- 
divided by Aristotle. — 

1. The Scientific (e7n(Trr)jj,oviK6r) part — the "virtue," faculty, 
or "habit of principles." He also designates it as the "place 
of principles," and further defines it as the power " which 
apprehends those existences whose principles can not be 
otherwise than they are" — that is, self-evident, immutable, 
and necessary truths^ — the intuitive reason. 

2. The Reasoiiing {XoyiarTinop) part — the power by which 
we draw conclusions from premises, and " contemplate con- 
tingent matter"^ — the discursive reason. 

The correlatives noetic and dianoettc, says Hamilton, would 
afford the best philosophic designation of these two faculties ; 
the knowledge attained by the former is an " intuitive princi- 
ple " — a truth at first hand ; . that obtained by the latter is a 
" demonstrative proposition " — a truth at second hand. 

The preceding notices of the psychology of Aristotle will 
aid us materially in interpreting his remarks '•''Upon the Method 
and Ha:bits necessary to the ascertainment of Principles.^'''' 

" That it is impossible to have scientific knowledge through 
demonstration without a knowledge of first immediate princi- 
ples, has been elucidated before." This being established, he 

^ " De Anima," bk. iii. ch. v. ^ " Ethics," bk. vi. ch. i. ^ Ibid. 

* " Post. Analytic," bk. ii. ch. xix., the concluding chapter of the Organon. 

26 



402 CHBISTIANITT AND 

proceeds to explain how that " knowledge of first, immediate 
principles" is developed in the mind. 

1. The knowledge of first principles is attained by the ijitui- 
tion of sense — the immediate perception of external objects, as 
the exciting or occasional cause of their development in the mind. 

" Now there appears inherent in all animals an innate power 
called sensible perceptiofi (aicrdrjaig) ; but sense being inherent, 
in some animals a permanency of the sensible object is engen- 
dered, but in others it is not engendered. Those, therefore, 
v/herein the sensible object does not remain have no knowl- 
edge without sensible perception, but others, when they per- 
ceive, retain one certain thing in the soul ; . . . . with some, rea- 
son is produced from the permanency (of the sensible impres- 
sion), [as in man], but in others it is not [as in the brute]. 
From sense, therefore, as we say, memory is produced, and 
from the repeated remembrance of the same thing we get ex- 
perience. . . . From experience, or fro7n every universal remain- 
ing in the soul — the one besides the many which in all of them 
is one and the same — the principles of art and science arise. 
If experience is conversant with generation, the principles of 
art ; if with being, the principles of science. . . . Let us again 
explain : When one thing without difference abides, there is 
then the first universal (notion) [developed] in the soul ; for 
the singular indeed is perceived by sense, but sense is \also'\ of 
the universal — that is, the universal is immanent in the sensi- 
ble object as a property giving it "form." "It is manifest, 
then, that primar}^ things become necessarily known by induc- 
tion, for thus sensible perception produces [develops or evokes] 
the U7iiversal''' 

2. The knowledge of first principles is attained by the intui- 
tion of pure intellect (vovq) — that is, "intellect itself is the principle 
of science ^^^ or, in other words, intellect is the efficient, essential 
cause of the knowledge of first principles. 

" Of those habits which are about intellect by which we as- 
certain truth, some^ are always true, but others'^ admit the false, 
^ The " noetic." ^ The " dianoetic." 



GREEK PUILOSOniY. 403 

as opinion and reasoning. But science and (pure) intellect are 
always true, and no other kind of knowledge, except intellect 
[intellectual intuition], is more accurate than science. And 
since the principles of demonstration are more known, and all 
science is connected with reason, there could not be a science 
of principles. But since nothing can be more true than science, 
except intellect, intellect will belong to principles. From these 
[considerations] it is evident that, as demonstration is not the 
principle of demonstration, so neither is science the principle 
of science. If, then, we have no other true genus (of habit) be- 
sides science, intellect will be the pri7iciple of science ; it will also 
be the principle (or cause of the knowledge) of the principle." 
The doctrine of Aristotle regarding "first principles" may 
perhaps be summed up as follows : All demonstrative science 
is based upon tmiversals "prior in nature" — that is, upon d 
■priori, self-evident, necessary, and immutable principles. Our 
knowledge of these "first and immediate principles" is depend- 
ent primarily on intellect {vovq) or intuitive reason, and second- 
arily on sense, experience, and induction. Prior to experience, 
the intellect contains these principles in itself potentially, as 
" forms," " laws," "habitudes," or "predicaments" of thought; 
but they can not be " evoked into energy," can not be revealed 
in consciousness, except on condition of experience, and they 
can only be scientifically developed by logical abstraction and 
definition. The ultimate ground of all truth and certainty is 
thus a mode of our own mind, a subjective necessity of think- 
ing, and truth is not in things, but in our own minds. ^ " Ulti- 
mate knowledge, as well as primary knowledge, the most per- 
fect knowledge which the philosopher can attain, as well as the 
point from which he starts, is still a proposition. All knowl- 
edge seems to be included under two forms — knowledge that 
it is so ; knowledge why it is so. Neither of these can, of 
course, include the knowledge at which Plato is aiming — knowl- 
edge which is correlated with Being — a knowledge, not about 
things or persons, but ^them."^ 

^ '* Metaphysics," bk. v. ch. iv. ^ Maurice's " Ancient Philosophy," p. 190. 



404 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



ARISTOTELIAN THEOLOGY. 



Theoretical philosophy, " the science which has truth for its 
end," is divided by Aristotle into Physics, Mathematics, and 
Theology, or the First Philosoph}", now commonly known as 
" Metaphysics," because it is beyond or above physics, and is 
concerned with the primitive ground and cause of all things.^ 

In the former two we have now no immediate interest, but 
with Theology, as " the science of the Divine,"^ the First Mov- 
ing Cause, which is the source of all other causes, and the orig- 
inal ground of all other things, we are specially concerned, in- 
asmuch as our object is to determine, if possible, whether Greek 
philosophy exerted any influence upon Christian tliought, and 
has bequeathed any valuable results to the Theology of modern 
times. 

"The Metaphysics" of Aristotle opens by an enumeration 
of "the principles or causes"^ into which all existences can be 
resolved by philosophical analysis. This enumeration is at 
present to be regarded as provisional, and in part h3'pothetical 
— a verbal generalization of the different principles which seem 
to be demanded to explain the existence of a thing, or consti- 
tute it what it is. These he sets down as — 

I. The Material Cause (njv vXrjv koI to vTrofCfZ/xf j^oj')— the mat- 
ter and subject — that out ^ which a given thing has been orig- 
inated. " From the analogy which this principle has to wood 
or stone, or any actual matter out of which a work of nature 

^ " Physics are concerned with things which have a principle of motion 
in themselves ; mathematics speculate on permanent, but not transcenden- 
tal and self-existent things ; and there is another science separate from 
these two, which treats of that which is immutable and transcendental, if 
indeed there exists such a substance, as we shall endeavor to show that 
there does. This transcendental and permanent substance, if it exist at all, 
must surely be the sphere of the divine — it must be the first and highest 
principle. Hence it follows that there are three kinds of speculative sci- 
ence — Physics, Mathematics, and Theology." — " Metaphysics," bk. x. ch. vii. 

"^ " Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. ii. 

^ Alriov — cause — is here used by Aristotle in the sense of "account of 
or " reason why." 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 405 

or of art is produced, the name ' material ' is assigned to this 
class." It does not always necessarily mean "matter" in the 
now common use of the term, but " antecedents — that is, prin- 
ciples whose inherence and priority is implied in any existing 
thing, as, for example, the premises of a syllogism, which are 
the material cause of the conclusion."^ With Aristotle there 
is, therefore, "matter as an object of sense," and "matter as 
an object of thought." 

2. The Formal Cause {t)]v ova'iav kol to n 7iv elvai) — the being 
or abstract essence of a thing — that primary nature on which 
all its properties depend. . To this Aristotle gave the name of 
tJ^oc — the form or exemplar according to which a thing is pro- 
duced. 

3. The Moving or Efficient Cause {odev )/ apx') rfjg Ktvijaeiog) — 
the origin and principle of motion — that i^y which a thing is 
produced. 

4. The Final Cause (to ov 'ivEKev kol to ayadov) — the good 
end answered by the existence of any thing — that for the sake 
of which any thing is produced — the eVe/ca tov, or reason for it.^ 
Thus, for instance, in a house, the wood out of which it is pro- 
duced is the matter (vXt)), the idea or conception according to 
which it is produced is the form {eldog — iJiop(j)r]), the builder who 
erects the house is the efficient cause, and the reason for its pro- 
duction, or the end of its existence is \he final cause. 

Causes are, therefore, the elements into which the mind re- 
solves its first rough conception of an object. That object 
is what it is, by reason of the matter out of which it sprang, 
the moving cause which gave it birth, the idea or form which 
it realizes, and the end or object which it attains. The knowl- 
edge of a thing implies knowing, it from these four points of 
view — that is, knowing its four causes or principles. 

These four determinations of being are, on a further and 
closer analysis, resolved into the fundamental antithesis of 

MATTER and FORM. 

^ Encyclopsedia Britannica, article ** Aristotle ;" "Post, Analytic," bk. ii. 
ch. xi. 2 a Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. iii. 



4o6 CHRISTIANITY AND 

"All things that are produced," says Aristotle/ "are pro- 
duced from something (that is, from matter), by something (that 
is,for77i), and become something (the totality — to avvoXov) ;" as, 
for example, a statue, a plant, a man. To every subject there 
belongs, therefore, first, matter (vXr]) ; secondly, form (jxopp)). 
The synthesis of these two produces and constitutes substance, 
or ovala. Matter and form are thus the two grand causes or 
principles whence proceed all things. The formative cause is, 
at the same time, the moving cause and the final cause ; for 
it is evidently the element of determination which impresses 
movement upon matter whilst determining it ; and it is also 
the end of being, since being only really exists when it has 
passed from an indeterminate to a determinate state. 

In proof that the iiloq or form is an efficient principle operat- 
ing in every object, which makes it, to our conception, what it 
is, Aristotle brings forward the subject of generation or produc- 
tion.^ There are three modes of production — natural, artifi- 
cial, and automatic. In natural production we discern at once 
a matter ; indeed Nature, in the largest sense, may be defined 
as "that out of which things are produced." Now the result 
formed out of this matter or nature is a given substance — a 
vegetable, a beast, or a man. But what is the producifig cause 
in each case ? Clearly something akin to the result. A man 
generates a man, a plant produces another plant like to itself. 
There is, therefore, implied in the resulting thing z. p7vductive 
force distinct from matter, upon which it works. And this is 
the Eiloq, or form. Let us now consider artificial production. 
Here again the form is the producing power. And this is in 
the soul. The art of the physician is the tiloq, which produces 
actual health ; the plan of the architect is the conception, which* 
produces an actual house. Here, however, a distinction arises. 
In these artificial productions there is supposed a vorjaiQ and a 
TToirjaiQ. The v6r}(nQ is the previous conception which the archi- 
tect forms in his own mind ; the Troirjaig is the actual creation 
of the house out of the given matter. In this case the concep- 
' " Metaphysics," bk. vi. ch. vii. ' Ibid. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY, 407 

tion is the moving cause of the production. The form of the 
statue in the mind of the artist is the motive or cause of the 
movement by which the statue is produced ; and health must 
be in the thought of the physician before it can become the 
moving cause of the healing art. INIoreover, that which is true 
of artificial production or change is also true of spontaneous 
production. For example, a cure may take place by the appli- 
cation of warmth, and this result is accomplished by means of 
friction. This warmth in the body is either itself a portion of 
health, or something is consequent upon it which is like itself, 
which is a portion of health. Evidently this implies the pre- 
vious presence either of nature or of an artificer. It is also 
clearly evident that this kind of generating influence (the auto- 
matic) should combine with another. There must be a pro- 
ductive power, and there must be something out of which it 
is produced. In this case, then, there will be a vXt] and an 

From the above it appears that the efficient cause is regarded 
by Aristotle as identical with XhQ formal cause. So also the 
Jinal cause — the end for the sake of which any thing exists — 
can hardly be separated from the perfection of that thing, that 
is, from its conception or form. The desire for the end gives 
the first impulse of motion ; thus the final cause of any thing 
becomes identical with the good of that thing. " The moving 
cause of the house is the builder, but the moving cause of the 
builder is the end to be attained — that is, the house." From 
such examples as these it would seem that the determinations 
of form and end are considered by Aristotle as one, in so far 
as both are merged in the conception oi actuality ; for he re- 
garded the end of every thing to be its completed being — the 
perfect realization of its idea or form. The only fundamental 
determinations, therefore, which can not be wholly resolved 
into each other are matter dindform.^ 

The opposition of matter and form, with Aristotle, corre- 

^ Maurice's "Ancient Philosophy," pp. 205, 206. 

"^ Schwegler's " History of Philosophy," pp. 120, 123. 



4o8 CHEISTIANITY AND 

sponds to the opposition between the element oi generality and 
the element oi particularity. Matter is indeterminate ; form is 
determinate. Matter, abstracted from form, in thought, is en- 
tirely without predicate and distinction ; form is that which 
enters into the definition of every subject, and without which it 
could not be defined. Matter is capable of the widest diver- 
sity of forms, but is itself without form. Pure form is, in fact, 
that which is without matter, or, in other words, it is the pure 
conception of being. Matter is the necessary condition of the 
existence of a thing ; form is the essence of each thing, that in 
virtue of which substance is possible, and without which it is 
inconceivable. On the one side is passivity, possibility of ex- 
istence, capacity of action ; on the other side is activity, actu- 
ality, thought. The unity of these two in the realm of deter- 
mined being constitutes every individual substance. The rela- 
tion of matter and form, logically apprehended, is thus the rela- 
tion of POTENTIALITY and ACTUALITY. 

This is a further and indeed a most important step in the 
Aristotelian theology. Matter, as we have seen, after all, 
amounts to merely capacity for action, and if we can not dis- 
cover some productive power to develop potentiality into actu- 
ality, we look in vain for some explanation of the phenomena 
around us. The discovery, however, of energy {ivipyua), as a 
principle of this description, is precisely what we wanted, and a 
momentary glance at the actual phenomena will show its per- 
fect identity with the eiIoq, or form.' " For instance, what is a 
calm ? It is evenness in the surface of the sea. Here the sea 
is the subject, that is, the matter in capacity, but the evenness 
is iho: eftergy or actuality; . . . . energy is thus as form.'"^ The 
form (or idea) is thus an energy or actuality {kvepyEta); the 

^ " That which Aristotle calls * form ' is not to be confounded with what 
we may perhaps call shape [or figure] ; a hand severed from the arm, for 
instance, has still the outward shape of a hand, but, according to Aristo- 
telian apprehension, it is only a hand now as to matter, and not as to form : 
an actual hand, a hand as to form, is only that which can do the proper 
work of a hand." — Schwegler's " History of Philosophy," p. 122. 

^ " Metaphysics," bk. vii. ch. ii. 

• 



GREEK PIIILOS'OPnY. 409 

matter is a capacity or potentiality {cuyajiic), requiring the co- 
operation of the energy to produce a result. 

These terms, which are first employed by Aristotle in their 
philosophical signification, are characteristic of his whole sys- 
tem. It is, therefore, important we should grasp their precise 
philosophical import ; and this can only be done by considering 
them in the strictest relation to each other. It is in this rela- 
tion they are defined by Aristotle. " Now hepyeia is the exist- 
ence of a thing not in the sense of its potentially existing. 
The term potentially we use, for instance, of the statue in the 
block, and Of the half in the whole (since it may be subtracted), 
and of a person knowing a thing, even when he is not thinking 
of it, but might be so ; whereas eyipyeia is the opposite. By 
applying the various instances our meaning will be plain, and 
one must not seek a definition in each case, but rather grasp 
the conception of the analogy as a whole, — that it is as that 
which builds to that which has a capacity for building ; as the 
waking to the sleeping ; as that which sees to that which has 
sight, but whose eyes are closed ; as the definite form to the 
shapeless matter ; as the complete to the unaccomplished. In 
this contrast, let the EVEpyeia be set off as forming the one side, 
and on the other let the potential stand. Things are said to 
be in evepyela not always in like manner (except so far as there 
is an analogy, that as this thing is in this, and related to this, 
so is that in that, or related to that) ; for sometimes it implies 
motion as opposed to the capacity of motion^ and sometimes com- 
plete existence opposed to undeveloped matter T^ As the term 
I'vvaiiiq has the double meaning of ^^possibility of existence " as 
well as ''^capacity of action ^^ so there is the double contrast of 
^^actiofi" as opposed to the capacity of action; and '''■ actual exist- 
eftce^^ opposed to possible existence or potentiality. To express 
accurately this latter antithesis, Aristotle introduced the term 
hrekix^ia — entelechy, of which the most natural account is 
that it is a compound of ev riXet ex^tv — "being in a state of 

^ " Metaphysics," bk. viii. ch. vi. 

^ " Entelechy indicates the perfected act, the completely actual." — Schw. 



4IO CHRISTIANITY AND 

perfection."^ This term, however, rarely occurs in the " Meta- 
physics," whilst evepyeia is everywhere employed, not only to 
express activity as opposed to passivity, but complete existence 
as opposed to undeveloped matter. 

" In Physics cwm/xtc answers to the necessary conditions for 
the existence of any thing before that thing exists. It thus 
corresponds to vXrj, both to the Trpojrr) vXr) — the first matter, or 
matter devoid of all qualities, which is capable of becoming 
any definite substance, as, for example, marble ; and also to 
the Effxctrr} vXt] — or matter capable of receiving form, as marble 
the form of the statue." Tvlarble then exists potentially in the 
simple elements before it is marble. The statue exists poten- 
tially in the marble before it is carved. All objects of thought 
exist, either purely in potentiality, or purely in actuality, or 
both in potentiality and in actuality. This division makes an 
entire chain of all existence. At the one end is matter, the 
TrpwTT) vXr} which has a merely potential existence, which is 
necessary as a condition, but which having no form and no 
qualities, is totally incapable of being realized by the mind. 
At the other end of the chain is pure form, which is not at all 
matter, the absolute and the unconditioned, the eternal sub- 
stance and energy without matter (ovrrla aihog koI kvipyeta uvev 
dwafieioc), who can not be thought as non-existing — the self- 
existent God. Between these t\vo extremes is the whole row 
of creatures, which out of potentiality evermore spring into 
actual being. ^ 

The relation of actuality to potentiality is the subject of an 
extended and elaborate discussion in book viii., the general re- 
sults of which may be summed up in the following proposi- 
tions : 

I. T/ie relation of Actuality to Potentiality is as the Perfect to 
the Imperfect. — The progress from potentiality to actuality is 
motion or production (KiyrjcnQ or yiveffig). But this motion is 
transitional, and in itself imperfect — it tends towards an end, 
but does not include the end in itself But actualit)^, if it imphes 
' Grant's Aristotle's "Ethics," vol. i. p. 184. ^ Id., ib., vol. i. p. 185. 



OREEK PHILOSOPHY. 411 

motion, has an end in itself and for itself; it is a motion desir- 
able for its own sake/ The relation of the potential to the 
actual Aristotle exhibits by the relation of the unfinished to 
the finished work, of the unemployed builder to the one at 
work upon his building, of the seed-corn to the tree, of the man 
who has the capacity to think, to the man actually engaged in 
thought.^ Potentially the seed-corn is the tree, but the grown- 
up tree is the actuality ; the potential philosopher is he who is 
not at this moment in a philosophic condition ; indeed, every 
thing is potential which possesses a principle of development, 
or of change. Actuality or entelechy, on the other hand, indi- 
cates the perfect act., the end gained, the completed actual ; that 
activity in which the act and the completeness of the act fall 
together — as, for example, to see, to think, where the acting 
and the completed act are one and the same. 

2. The Relation of Actuality to Potentiality is a causal Rela- 
tion. — A thing which is endued with a simple capacity of being 
may nevertheless not actually exist, and a thing may have a 
capacity of being and really exist. Since this is the case, there 
must ensue between non-being and real being some such prin- 
ciple as efiergy^ in order to account for the transition or change.^ 
Energy has here some analogy to motion, though it must not 
be confounded with motion. Now you can not predicate either 
motion or energy of things which are not. The mom.ent energy 
is added to them they are. This transition from potentiality 
to actuality must be through the medium of such principles as 
propension ox free will, because propension or free will possess 
in themselves the power of originating motion in other things.* 

3. The Relation of Actuality and Potentiality is a Relation of 
Priority. — Actuality, says Aristotle, is prior to potentiality in 
the order of reason, in the order of substance, and also (though 
not invariably) in the order of time. The first of all capacities 
is a capacity of energizing or assuming a state of activity; for 
example, a man who has the capacity of building is one who is 

* " Metaphysics," bk. viii. ch. vi. ^ Ibid, bk. viii. ch. vi. 

^ Ibid., bk. viii. ch. iii. * ^ Ibid., bk. viii. ch. v. 



412 CHEISTIAXITY AND 

skilled in building, and thus able to use his energy in the art 
of building.^ The primary energizing power must precede that 
which receives the impression of it, Form being older than 
Matter, But if you take the case of any particular person or 
thing, we say that its capacity of being that particular person 
or thing precedes its being so actually. Yet, though this is the 
case in each particular thing, there is always a foregone energy 
presumed in some other thing (as a prior seed, plant, man) to 
which it owes its existence. One pregnant thought presents 
itself in the course of the discussion which has a direct bearing 
upon our subject. Avyafiic has been previously defined as "a 
principle of motion or change in another thing in so far forth as 
it is another thing "^ — that is, it is fitted by nature to have mo- 
tion imparted to it, and to communicate motion to something 
else. But this motion wants a resting-place. There can be 
no infinite regression of causes. There is some primary Ibva^ic 
presupposed in all others, which is the beginning of change. 
This is (pvcTLc, or nature. But the first and original cause of all 
motion and change still precedes and surpasses nature. The 
final cause of all potentiality is energy or actuality. The one 
proposed is prior to the means through which the end is ac- 
complished. A process of actualization, a tendency towards 
completeness or perfection (reXoc) presupposes an absolute 
actuality which is at once its beginning and end. " One ener- 
gy is invariably antecedent to another in time, up to that which 
is primarily and eternally the Moving Cause."^ 

And now having laid down these fundamental principles 
of metaphysical science, as preparatory to Theology, Aristotle 
proceeds to establish the conception of the Absolute or Di- 
vine Spirit as the eternal^ i7mnutable Substance^ the immaterial 
Energy^ the unchangeable Fo7'?n of Forms, the first moving Cause. 

I. The Ontological Fonn of F7'oof. — It is necessary to con- 
ceive an eternal and immutable substance — an actuality which 
is absolute and prior, both logically and chronologically, to all 

' " Metaphysics," bk. viii. ch. viii. ^ Ibid., bk. iv. ch. xii. 

^ Ibid., bk. viii. ch. viii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 413 

potentiality ; for that which is potential is simply contingent, 
it may just as easily not be as be ; that which exists only in 
capacity is temporal and corruptible, and may cease to be. 
Matter we know subsists merely in capacity and passivity, and 
without the operation of Energy {kripyeia), or the formative 
cause, would be to us as nonentity. The phenomena of the 
world exhibits to us the presence of Energy, and energy pre- 
supposes the existence of an eternal substance. Furthermore, 
matter and potentiality are convertible terms, therefore the pri- 
mal Energy or Actuality must be immaterial} 

2. The Cosmological Form of Proof. — It is impossible that 
there should be inotion^ genesis, or a chain of causes, except on 
the assumption of a first Moving Cause, since that which ex- 
ists only in capacity can not, of itself energize, and conse- 
quently without a principle of motion which is essentially ac- 
tive, we have only a principle of immobility. The principle 
" ex nihilo nihil " forbids us to assume that motion can arise 
out of immobility, being out of non-being. " How can matter 
be put in motion if nothing that subsists in energy exist, and 
is its cause?" All becoming, therefore, necessarily supposes 
that which has not become, that which is eternally self-active 
as the principle and cause of all motion. There is no refuge 
from the notion that all things are " born of night and nothing- 
ness " except in this belief^ 

The existence of an eternal principle subsisting in energy 
is also demanded to explain the order of the world. " For 
how, let me ask, will there prevail order on the supposition 
that there is- no subsistence, of that which is eternal, and which 
involves a separable existence, and is permanent."^ " All 
things in nature are constituted in the best possible manner."" 
All things strive after " the good." " The appearance of ends 
and means in nature is a proof of design."^ Now an end or 
final cause presupposes intelligence, — implies a miitd to see 

^ " Metaphysics," bk. xi. ch. vi. "^ Ibid,, bk. xi. ch. vii., viii. 

^ Ibid., bk. X. ch. ii, * <« Ethics," bk. i. ch. ix. 

^ " Nat. Ausc," bk. ii. ch. viii. 



414 CHRISTIAXITY AND 

and desire it. That which is " fair," " beautiful," " good," an 
"object of desire," can only be perceived by Mind. The 
" final cause " must therefore subsist in that which is prior and 
immovable and eternal ; and Mi?id is " that substance which 
subsists absolutely, and according to energy."^ " The First 
Mover of all things, moves all things without being moved, 
being an eternal substance and energy ; and he moves all 
things as the object of reason and of desire, or iove."^ 

3. The Moral Form of Proof . — So far as the relation of po- 
tentiality and actuality is identical with the relation of matter 
and form, the argument for the existence of God may be thus 
presented : The conception of an absolute matter without form, 
involves the supposition of an absolute form without matter. 
And since the conception of form resolves itself into motion^ 
conception, purpose or end, so the Eternal One is the absolute 
principle of motion (the Trpwrov kivovv), the absolute conception 
or pure intelligence (the pure ri 7]v elvai), and the absolute 
ground, reason, or end of all being. All the other predicates 
of the First Cause follow from the above principles with logical 
necessity. 

(i.) I/e is, of course, pure intellect, because he is absolutely 
immaterial and free from nature. He is active intelligence, 
because his essence is pure actuality. He is self-contempla- 
ting and. self-conscious intelligence, because the divine thought 
can not attain its actuality in any thing extrinsic j it would de- 
pend on something else than self — some potential existence 
for its actualization. Hence the famous definition of the ab- 
solute as "the thought of thought" (yorjang voyjaetog).^ "And 
therefore the first and actual perception by mind of Mind it- 
self, doth subsist in this way throughout all eternity."* 

(ii.) Ife is also essential life. "The principle of life is inher- 
ent in the Deity, for the energy or active exercise of mind 
constitutes life, and God constitutes this energy ; and essential 

^ " Metaphysics," bk. xi. ch. vii. "^ Ibid. 

^ Schwegler's " History of Philosophy," p. 125, 
* " Metaphysics," bk. xi. ch. ix. 



GREEK PHILOSOPET. 415 

energy belongs to God as his best and everlasting life. Now 
our statement is this — that the Deity is a living being that is 
everlasting and most excellent in nature, so that with the Deity 
life and duration are uninterrupted and eternal ; for this con- 
stitutes the essence of God."^ 

(iii.) Unity belo7igs to him, since multiplicity implies matter ; 
and the highest idea or form' of the world must be absolutely 
immaterial.^ The Divine nature is " devoid of parts and indi- 
visible, for magnitude can not in any way involve this Divine 
nature j for God imparts motion through infinite duration, and 
nothing finite — as magnitude is — can be possessed of an infi- 
nite capacity."' 

(iv.) He is immovable and ever ahideth the same ; since other- 
wise he could not be the absolute mover, and the cause of all 
becoming, if he were subject to change.* God is impassive 
and unalterable (ctTraOfyc Ka\ avaWoLtorov) ; for all such notions 
as are involved in passion or alteration are outside the sphere 
of the Divine existence.^ 

(v.) He is the ever-blessed God. — "The life of God is of a 
kind with those highest moods which, with us, last a brief space, 
it being impossible they should be permanent ; whereas, with 
Him they are permanent, since His ever-present consciousness 
is pleasure itself. And it is because they are vivid states of 
consciousness, that waking, and perception, and thought, are 
the sweetest of all things. Now essential perception is the 
perception of that which is most excellent, .... and the mind 
perceives itself by participating of its own object of perception ; 
but it is a sort of coalescence of both that, in the Divine Mind, 
creates a regular identity between the two, so that with God 
both (the thinker and the thought, the suijject and object) are 
the same. In possession of this prerogative. He subsists in 
the exercise of energy ; and the contemplation of his own per- 
fections is what, to God, must be most agreeable and excellent. 
This condition of existence, after so excellent a manner, is what 

^ " Metaphysics," bk. xi. ch. vii. "^ Ibid. ^ Ibid. 

* Ibid., bk. xi. ch. viii. * Ibid., bk. xi. ch. vii. 



4i6 CHRISTIANITY AND 

is " so astonishing to us when we examine God's nature, and the 
more we do so the more wonderful that nature appears to us. 
The mood of the Divine existence is essential energy, and, as 
such, it is a life that is most excellent, blessed, and everlasting."^ 

The theology of Aristotle may be summed up in the follow- 
ing sentences selected from book xi. of his " Metaphysics :" 

" This motionless cause of motion is a necessary being ; and, 
by virtue of such necessity, is the all-perfect being. This all- 
pervading principle penetrates heaven and all nature. It eter- 
nally possesses perfect happiness ; and its happiness is in 
action. This primal mover is immaterial ; for its essence is 
in energy. It is pure thought — thought thinking itself — the 
thought of thought. The activity of pure intelligence — such is 
the perfect, eternal life of God. This primal cause of change, 
this absolute perfection, moves the world by the universal de- 
sire for the absolute good, by the attraction exercised upon it by 
the Eternal Mind — the serene energy of Divine Intelligence." 

It can not be denied that, so far as it goes, this conception 
of the Deity is admirable, worthy, and just. Viewed from a 
Christian stand-point, we at once concede that it is essentially 
defective. There is no clear and distinct recognition of God 
as Creator and Governor of the universe ; he is chiefly regarded 
as the Life of the universe — the Intellect, the Energy — that 
which gives excellence, and perfection, and gladness to the 
whole system of things. The Theology of Aristotle is, in fact, 
metaphysical rather than practical. He does not contemplate 
the Deity as a moral Governor. Whilst Plato speaks of "be- 
ing made like God through becoming just and holy," Aristotle 
asserts that " all moral virtues are totally unworthy of being 
ascribed to God."^ He is not the God of providence. He 
dwells alone, supremely indifferent to human cares, and inter- 
ests, and sorrows. He takes no cognizance of individual men, 
and holds no intercourse with man. The God of Aristotle is 
not a being that meets and satisfies the wants of the human 
heart, however well it may meet the demands of the reason. 
' " Metaphysics," bk. xi. ch. vii. "^ " Ethics," bk. x. ch. viii. 



GREEK rniLOSOPHY. 417 

Morality has no basis in the Divine nature, no eternal type in 
the perfections and government of God, and no supports and 
aids from above. The theology of Aristotle foreshadows the 
character of the 

ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS. 

We do not find in Aristotle any distinct recognition of an 
eternal and immutable morality, an absolute right, which has 
its foundation in the nature of God. Plato had taught that 
there was " an absolute Good, above and beyond all existence 
in dignity and power ;" which is, in fact, "the cause of all exist- 
ence and all knowledge," and which is God; that all other 
things are good in proportion as they " partake of this absolute 
Good j" and that all men are so far good as they " resemble 
God." But with this position Aristotle joins issue. After 
stating the doctrine of Plato in the following words — " Some 
have thought that, besides all these manifold goods upon earth, 
^there is some absolute good, which is the cause to all these of 
their being good" — he proceeds to criticise that idea, and 
concludes his argument by saying — "we must dismiss the 
idea at present, for if there is any one good, universal and 
generic, or transcendental and absolute, it obviously can never 
be realized nor possessed by man ; whereas something of this 
latter kind is what we are inquiring after." He follows up 
these remarks by saying that " Perhaps the knowledge of the 
idea may be regarded by some as useful, as a pattern (Tropa- 
hiyfia) by which to judge of relative good." Against this he 
argues that " There is no trace of the arts making use of any 
such conception ; the cobbler, the carpenter, the physician, and 
the general, all pursue their vocations without respect to the ab- 
sohite good, nor is it easy to see how they would be benefited by 
apprehending it."^ The good after which Aristotle would in- 
quire is, therefore, a relative good, since the knowledge of the 
absolute good can not possibly be realized. 

Instead, therefore, of seeking to attain to " a transcendental 
^ " Ethics," bk. i. ch. vi. 
27 



4i8 CHRISTIANITY AND 

and absolute good " — a fundamental idea of right, which may 
be useful as a paradigm by which we may judge of relative 
good, he addresses himself solely to the question, "what is 
good for man " — what is the good attainable in action ? And 
having identified the Chief Good with the final and perfect end 
of all action, the great question of the Ethics is, " What is the 
end of human action ? {ri ecttl to tCjv TrpaKrCJy riXog).^ 

Now an end or final cause implies an intelligence — implies 
a mind to perceive and desire it. This is distinctly recognized 
by Aristotle. The question, therefore, naturally arises — is that 
end fixed for man by a higher intelligence, and does it exist for 
man both as an idea and as an ideal ? Can man, first, intellec- 
tually apprehend the idea, and then consciously strive after its 
realization ? Is it the duty of man to aim at fulfilling the pur- 
poses of his Creator ? To this it may be answered that Aris- 
totle is not at all explicit as to God's moral government of the 
world. "Moral government," in the now common acceptation 
of the term, has no place in the system of Aristotle, and thq, 
idea of "duty" is scarcely recognized. He considers "the 
good " chiefly in relation to the constitution and natural con- 
dition of man. "It is^^ says he, "the end towards which nature 
tendsT As physical things strive unconsciously after the end 
of their existence, so man strives after the good attainable in 
life. Socrates had identified virtue and knowledge, he had 
taught that "virtue is a Science." Aristode contended that 
virtue is an art, like music and architecture, which must be at- 
tained by exercise. It is not purely intellectual, it is the bloom 
of the physical, which has become ethical. As the flower of 
the field, obeying the laws of its organization, springs up, 
blooms, and attains its own peculiar perfection, so there is an 
instinctive desire {opd,iq) in the soul which at first unconscious- 
ly yearns after the good, and subsequently the good is sought 
with full moral intent and insight. Aristotle assumes that the 
desires or instincts of man are so framed as to imply the ex- 
istence of this end (reXog).^ And he asserts that man can only 
' " Ethics," bk. i. di. xiii. « Ibid., bk. i. ch. ii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 419 

realize it in the sphere of his own proper functions, and in ac- 
cordance with the laws of his own proper nature and its har- 
monious development.^ It is not, then, through instruction, or 
•through the perfection of knowledge, that man is to attain the 
good, but through exercise and habit (f0oe). By practice of 
moral acts we become virtuous, just as by practice of building 
and of music, we become architects and musicians; for the 
habit, which is the ground of moral character, is only a fruit of 
oft-repeated moral acts. Hence it is by these three things — 
nature, habit, reason — that men become good. 

Aristotle's question, therefore, is. What is the chief good for 
man as man ? not what is his chief good as a spiritual and an 
immortal being ? or what is his chief good as a being related to 
and dependent upon God ? And the conclusion at which he 
arrives is, that it is the absolute satisfaction of our whole nature — 
that which men are agreed in calling happiness. This happi-' 
ness, however, is not mere sensual pleasure. The brute shares 
this in common with man, therefore it can not constitute the 
happiness of man. Human happiness must express the com- 
pleteness of rational existence. And inasmuch as intelligence 
is essential activity, as the soul is the entelechy of the body, 
therefore this happiness of man can not consist in a mere pas- 
sive condition. It must, therefore, consist in perfect activity in 
well-doing, and especially in contemplative thought,^ or as Ar- 
istotle defines it — "// is a perfect practical activity in a perfect 
life.^^^ His conception of the chief good has thus two sides, 
one internal, that which exists in and for the consciousness — a 
" complete and perfect life," the other external and practical. 
The latter, however, is a means to the former. That complete 

* *' Ethics," bk. i. ch. vii. 

"^ "If it be true to say that happiness consists in doing well, a life of ac- 
tion must be best both for the state and the individual. But we need not, 
as some do, suppose that a life of action implies relation to others, or that 
those only are active thoughts which are concerned with the results of ac- 
tion ; but far rather we must consider those speculations and thoughts to be 
so which have their end in themselves, and which are for their own sake." — 
" Politics," bk. vii. ch, iii. 

' " Ethics," bk. i. ch. x. 



42 CHBISTIANITT AND 

and perfect life is the complete satisfaction and perfection of 
our rational nature. It is a state of peace which is the crown 
of exertion. It is tHe realization of the divine in man, and con- 
stitutes the absolute and all-sufficient happiness.^ A good ac- 
tion is thus an End-in-itself (riXeiov riXog) inasmuch as it se- 
cures ih^ perfection of our nature ; it is that for the sake of which 
our moral faculties before existed, hence bringing an inward 
pleasure and satisfaction with it ; something in which the mind 
can rest and fully acquiesce ; something which can be pro- 
nounced beautiful, fitting, honorable, and perfect. 

From what has been already stated, it will be seen that the 
Aristotelian conception of Virtue is not conformity to an abso- 
lute and immutable standard of right. It is defined by him as 
the observation of the right mean (neao-rjc) in action— thsit is, the 
right mean relatively to ourselves. "Virtue is a habit delib- 
erately choosing, existing as a mean {^iaov) which refers to us, 
and is defined by reason, and as a prudent man would define 
it ; and it is a mean between two evils, the one consisting in 
excess, the other in defect ; and further, it is a mean, in that 
one of these falls short of, and the other exceeds, what is right 
both in passions and actions ; and that virtue both finds and 
chooses the mean."^ The perfection of an action thus consists 
in its containing the right degree— the true mean between too 
much, and too little. The law of the fjLefforrjQ is illustrated by 
the following examples : Man has a fixed relation to pleasure 
and pain. In relation to pain, the true mean is found in nei- 
ther fearing it nor courting it, and this \s fortitude. In relation 
to pleasure, the true mean stands between greediness and in- 
difference ; this is temperance. The true mean between prodi- 
gality and narrowness is liberality ; between simplicity and cun- 
ning is prudence ; between suffering wrong and doing wrong is 
justice. Extending this law to certain qualifications of temper, 
speech, and manners, you have the portrait of a graceful Gre- 
cian gentleman. Virtue is thus p7'Oportion, grace, harmony, 
beauty i?i action. 

* " Ethics," bk. x. ch. viii. "^ Ibid, bk. ii. ch. vi. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 42 1 

It will at once be seen that this classification has no stable 
foundation. It furnishes no ultimate standard of right. The 
mcaji is a wavering line. It differs under different circumstances 
and relations, and in different times and places. That mean 
which is sufficient for one individual is insufficient for another. 
The virtue of a man, of a slave, and of a child, is respectively 
different. There are as many virtues as there are circumstances 
in life ; and as men are ever entering into new relations, in 
which it is difficult to determine the correct method of action, 
the separate virtues can not be limited to any definite number. 

Imperfect as the ethical system of Aristotle may appear to 
us who live in Christian times, it must be admitted that his 
writings abound with just and pure sentiments. His science 
of Ethics is a discipline of human character in order to human 
happifiess. And whilst it must be admitted that it is directed 
solely to the improvement of man in the present life, he aims 
to build that improvement on pure and noble principles, and 
seeks to elevate man to the highest perfection of which he 
could conceive]* "And no greater praise can be given to a 
work of heathen morality than to say, as may be said of the 
ethical writings of Aristotle, that they contain nothing which a 
Christian may dispense with, no precept of life which is not an 
element of Christian character; and that they only fail in ele- 
vating the heart and the mind to objects which it needed Di- 
vine Wisdom to reveal."^ 

^ Encyclopaedia Britannica, article "Aristotle." 



422 



CHBISTIANITT AND 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE PHILOSOPHERS OF ATHENS {continued). 
POST-SOCRATIC SCHOOL. 

EPICURUS AND ZENO. 

PHILOSOPHY, after the time of Aristotle, takes a new 
direction. In the pre-Socratic schools, we have seen it 
was mainly a philosophy of nature ; in the Socratic school it 
was characterized as a philosophy of mind ; and now in the 
post-Socratic schools it becomes a philosophy of life — a moral 
philosophy. Instead of aiming at the knowledge of real Being 
— of the permanent, unchangeable, eternal principles which 
underlie all phenomena, it was now content ti aim, chiefly, at 
individual happiness. The primary question now discussed, as 
of the most vital importance, is, What is the ultimate standard 
by which, amid all the diversities of human conduct and opin- 
ion, we may determine what is right and good in individual 
and social life ? 

This remarkable change in the course of philosophic in- 
quiry was mainly due — 

I St. To the altered circumstances of the tif7ies. An age of civil 
disturbance and political intrigue succeeded the Alexandrian 
period. The different states of Greece lost their independence, 
and became gradually subject to a foreign yoke. Handed over 
from one domination to another, in the struggles of Alexander's 
lieutenants, they endeavored to reconquer their independence 
by forming themselves into confederations, but were powerless 
to unite in the defense of a common cause. The Achaean and 
Etolian leagues were weakened by internal discords ; and it 
was in vain that Sparta tried to recover her ancient liberties. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 423 

Divided amongst themselves, the smaller states invoked the 
aid of dangerous allies — at one time appealing to Macedon, at 
another to Egypt. In this way they prepared for the total 
ruin of Greek liberty, which was destined to be extinguished by 
Rome/ 

During this period of hopeless turmoil and social disorder, 
all lofty pursuits and all great principles were lost sight of and 
abandoned. The philosophic movement followed the down- 
ward course of society, and men became chiefly concerned for 
their personal interest and safety. The wars of the Succession 
almost obliterated the idea of society, and philosophy was 
mainly directed to the securing of personal happiness ; it be- 
came, in fact, "the art of making one's self happy." The sad 
reverses to which the Grecian mind had been subjected pro- 
duced a feeling of exhaustion and indifference, which soon re- 
flected itself in the philosophy of the age. 

2d. In connection with the altered circumstances of the age, 
we must also take account oithe apparent failure of the Socratic 
method to solve the problem of Being. 

The teaching of Aristotle had fostered the suspicion that 
the dialectic method was a failure, and thus prepared the way 
for a return to sensualism. He had taught that individuals 
alone have a real existence, and that the "essence" of things 
is not to be sought in the elements of unity and generality, or 
in the idea^ as Plato taught, but in the elements of diversity 
and speciality. And furthermore, in opposition to Plato, he 
had taught his disciples to attach themselves to sensation, as 
the source of all knowledge. As the direct consequence of 
this teaching, we find his immediate successors, Dicearchus 
and Straton, deliberately setting aside " the god of philosophy," 
affirming " that a divinity was unnecessary to the explanation 
of the existence and order of the universe." Stimulated by the 
social degeneracy of the times, the characteristic skepticism of 
the Greek intellect bursts forth anew. As the skepticism of 
the Sophists marked the close of the first period of philoso- 
^ Pressense, *' Religions before Christ," pp. 136-140. 



424 CHRISTIANITY AND 

phy, so the skepticism of Pyrrhonism marked the close of the 
second. The new skepticism arrayed Aristotle against Plato, 
as the earlier skeptics arrayed atomism against the doctrine of 
the Eleatics. They naturally said : " We have been seeking a 
long time ; what have we gained ? Have we obtained any 
thing certain and determinate? Plato says we have. But 
Aristotle and Plato do not agree. May not our opinion be as 
good as theirs ? What a diversity of opinions have been pre- 
sented during the past three hundred years ! One may be as 
good as another, or they may be all alike untrue !" Timon 
and Pyrrhon declared that, of each thing, it might be said to 
be, and not to be ; and that, consequently, we should cease tor- 
menting ourselves, and seek to obtain an absolute calm, which 
they dignified with the name of ataraxie. Beholding the over- 
throw and disgrace of their country, surrounded by examples 
of pusillanimity and corruption, and infected with the spirit of 
the times themselves, they wrote this maxim : " Nothing is in- 
famous ; nothing is in itself just; laws and customs alone con- 
stitute what is justice and what is iniquity." Having reached 
this extreme, nothing can be too absurd, and they cap the cli- 
max by saying, " We assert nothing ; no, not even that we as- 
sert nothing !" 

And yet there must some function, undoubtedly, remain for 
the "wise man" (aocpog). 

Reason was given for some purpose. Philosophy must have 
some end. And inasmuch as it is not to determine specula- 
tive questions, it must be to determine practical questions. 
May it not teach men to ad rather than to t/iinj^ ? The philos- 
opher, the schools, the disciples, survive the darkening flood of 
skepticism. 

Three centuries before Christ, the Peripatetic and Platonic 
schools are succeeded by two other schools, which inherit their 
importance, and which, in other forms, and by an under-cur- 
rent, perpetuate the disputes of the Peripatetics and Platonists, 
namely, the Epicureans and Stoics. With- Aristotle and Plato, 
philosophy embraced in its circle nature, humanity, and God ; 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 425 

but now, in the systems of Epicurus and Zeno, moral philoso- 
phy is placed in the foreground, and assumes the chief, the 
overshadowing pre-eminence. The conduct of life — morality 
— is now the grand subject of inquiry, and the great theme of 
discourse. 

In dealing with morals two opposite methods of inquiry were 
possible : 

1. To Judge of the quality of actions by their results. 

2. To search for the quality af actions in the actions them- 
selves. 

Utility, which in its last analysis is Pleasure^ is the test of 
right, in the first method ; an assumed or discovered Law of 
Nature, in the second. If the world were perfect, and the bal- 
ance of the human faculties undisturbed, it is evident that both 
systems would give identical results. As it is, there is a ten- 
dency to error on each side, which is fully developed in the 
rival schools of the Epicureans and Stoics, who practically 
divided the suffrages of the mass of educated men until the 
coming of Christ. 

EPICUREANS. 

Epicurus was born b.c. 342, and died b.c. 270. He 
purchased a Garden within the city, and commenced, at 
thirty-six years of age, to teach philosophy. The Platonists 
had their academic Grove : the Aristotelians walked in the 
Lyceum : the Stoics occupied the Porch : the Epicureans had 
their Garden, where they lived a tranquil life, and seem to 
have had a community of goods. 

There is not one of all the various founders of the ancient 
philosophical schools whose memory was cherished with so 
much veneration by his disciples as that of Epicurus. For 
several centuries after his death, his portrait was treated by 
them with all the honors of a sacred relic : it was carried 
about with them in their journeys, it was hung up in their 
schools, it was preserved with reverence in their private cham- 
bers ; his birthday was celebrated with sacrifices and other re- 



426 CHRISTIANITY AND 

ligious observances, and a special festival in his honor was held 
every month. 

So much honor having been paid to the memory of Epicu- 
rus, we naturally expect that his works would have been pre- 
served with religious care. He was one of the most prolific of 
the ancient Greek writers. Diogenes calls him " a most volu- 
minous writer," and estimates the number of works composed 
by him at no less than three hundred, the principal of which 
he enumerates.^ But out of all this prodigious collection, not 
a single book has reached us in a complete, or ^t least an in- 
dependent form. Three letters, which contain som.e outlines 
of his philosophy, are preserved by Diogenes, who has also em- 
bodied his " Fundamental Maxims " — forty-four propositions, 
containing a summary of his ethical system. These, with part 
of his work " On Nature," found during the last century among 
the Greek MSS. recovered at Herculaneum, constitute all that 
has survived the general wreck. 

We are thus left to depend mainly on his disciples and suc- 
cessors for any general account of his system. And of the 
earliest and most immediate of these the writings have per- 
ished.'^ Our sole original authority is Diogenes Laertius, who 
was unquestionably an Epicurean. The sketch of Epicurus 
which is given in his " Lives " is evidently a " labor of love." 
Among all the systems of ancient philosophy described by him, 
there is none of whose general character he has given so skill- 
ful and so elaborate an analysis. And even as regards the 
particulars of the system, nothing could be more complete than 
Laertius's account of his physical speculations. Additional 
light is also furnished by the philosophic poem of Lucretius 
" On the Nature of Things," which was written to advocate the 



^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers, "bk. x. ch. xvi., xvii. 

^ Some fragments of the writings of Metrodorus, Phsedrus, Polystratus, 
and Philodemus, have been found among the Herculanean Papyri, and pub- 
lished in Europe, which are said to throw some additional light on the doc- 
trines of Epicurus. See article on " Herculanean Papyri," in Edinburgh Re- 
view, October, 1862. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHT. 427 

physical theory of Epicurus. These are the chief sources of 
our information. 

It is said of Epicurus that he loved to hearken to the stories 
of the indifference and apathy of Pyrrhon, and that, in these 
qualities, he aspired to imitate him. But Epicurus was not, 
like Pyrrhon, a skeptic ; on the contrary, he was the most im- 
perious dogmatist. No man ever showed so little respect for 
the opinions of his predecessors, or so much confidence in his 
own. He was fond of boasting that he had made his own phi- 
losophy — he was a " self-taught " man ! Now " Epicurus might 
be perfectly honest in saying he had read very httle, and had 
worked out the conclusions in his own mind ; but he was a 
copyist, nevertheless ; few men more entirely so."^ His psy- 
chology was certainly borrowed from the Ionian school. From 
thence he had derived his fundamental maxim, that " sensation 
is the source of all knowledge, and the standard of all truth." 
His physics were copied from Democritus. With both, " atoms 
are the first principle of all things." And in Ethics he had 
learned from Aristotle, that if an absolute good is not the end {/' 
of a practical life, happiness must be its end.^ All that is fun- 
damental in the system of Epicurus was borrowed from his pred- 
ecessors, and there is little that can be called new in his teach- 
ing. 

The grand object of philosophy, according to Epicurus, is 
the attainment of a happy life. " Philosophy," says he, " is the 
power by which reason conducts men to happiness." Truth is 
a merely relative thing, a variable quantity ; and therefore the 
pursuit of truth for its own sake is superfluous and useless. 
There is no such thing as absolute, unchangeable right : no ac- 
tion is intrinsically right or wrong. " We choose the virtues, not 
on their own account, but for the sake of pleasure, just as we 
seek the skill of the physician for the sake of health."^ That 
which is nominally right in morals, that which is relatively good 

* Maurice's "Ancient Philosophy," p. 236. ^ " Ethics," bk. i. ch. vi. 
^ " Fundamental Maxims," preserved in Diogenes Laertius, *' Lives of 
the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxx. 



428 CHRISTIANITY AND 

in human conduct, is, therefore, to be determined by the effects 
upon ourselves ; that which is agreeable — pleasurable, is right ; 
that which is disagreeable — painful, is wrong. "The virtues 
are connate with living pleasantly."^ Pleasure {rjdovi]), then, is 
the great end to be sought in human action. " Pleasure is the 
chief good, the beginning and end of living happily."^ 

The proof which Epicurus offers in support of his doctrine, 
" that pleasure is the chief good," is truly characteristic. " All 
animals from the moment of their birth are delighted with 
pleasure and offended with pain, by their natural instincts, 
and without the employment of reason. Therefore we, also, 
of our own inclination, flee from pain."^ " All men like pleasure 
and dislike pain ; they naturally shun the latter and. pursue the 
former." "If happiness is present, we have every thing, and 
when it is absent, we do every thing with a view to possess it."* 
Virtue thus consists in man's doing deliberately what the ani- 
mals do instinctively — that is, choose pleasure and avoid pain. 

" Every kind of pleasure " is, in the estimation of Epicurus, 
"alike good," and alike proper. "If those things which make 
the pleasures of debauched men put an end to the fears of the 
mind, and to those which arise about the heavenly bodies [su- 
pernatural powers], and death and pain, .... we should have 
no pretense for blaming those who wholly devote themselves 
to pleasure, and who never feel any pain, or grief (which is the 
chief evil) from any quarter."^ Whilst, however, all pleasures 
of the body, as well as the mind, are equal in dignity, and alike 
good, they differ in intensity, in duration, and, especially, in 
their consequences. He therefore divides pleasure into two 
classes ; and in this, as Cousin remarks, is found the only ele- 
ment of originality in his philosophy. These two kinds of 
pleasure are : 

' " Epicurus to Menaeceus," in Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philos- 
ophers," bk. X. ch. xxvii. "^ Id., ib. 

^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxix. 

^ Id., ib., bk. X. ch. xxvii. 

^ " Fundamental Maxims," No. 9, in Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the 
Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxxi. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 429 

1. The pleasure of movement^ excitement, energy {}]lovi] iv 
Kivtjffei).^ This is the most lively pleasure; it supposes the 
greatest development of physical and mental power. "Joy 
and cheerfulness are beheld in motion and energy." But it is 
not the most enduring pleasure, and it is not the most perfect. 
It is accompanied by uneasiness ; it "brings with it many per- 
turbations," and it yields some bitter fruits. 

2. T/ie second kind of pleasure is the pleasure of repose, tran- 
quillity, impassibility (}]dovt) KaraarriiiaTiKri). This is a state, a 
" condition," rather than a motion. It is " the freedom of the 
body from pain, and the soul from confusion."^ This is perfect 
and unmixed happiness — the happiness of God ; and he who 
attains it " will be like a god among men." " The storm of 
the soul is at an end, and body and soul are perfected." 

Now, whilst "no pleasure is intrinsically bad,"^ prudence 
{(ppovqaic), or practical wisdom, would teach us to choose the 
highest and most perfect happiness. Morality is therefore the 
application of reason to the conduct of life, and virtue is wis- 
dom. The office of reason is to " determine our choices " — to 
take account of the duration of pleasures, to estimate their con- 
sequences, and to regard the happiness of a whole lifetime, 
and not the enjoyment of a single hour. Without wisdom men 
will choose the momentary excitements of passion, and follow 
after agitating pleasures, which are succeeded by pain ; they 
will consequently lose "tranquillity of mind." "It is not pos- 
sible," says Epicurus, "to live pleasantly without living pru- 
dently and honorably and justly."* The difference, then, be- 
tween the philosopher and the ordinary man is this — that while 
both seek pleasure, the former knows how to forego certain 
indulgences wdiich cause pain and vexation hereafter, whereas 
the ordinary man seeks only immediate enjoyment. Epicurus 
does not dispense with virtue, but he simply employs it as a 
means to an end, namely, the securing of happiness.^ 

^ Diogenes Laertius, "Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxviii. 
' Id., ib. ^ "Fundamental Maxims," No. 7. * Ibid., No. 5. 

^ Pressense, " Religions before Christ," p. 141. 



430 CHUISTIANITY AND 

Social morality is, like private morality, founded upon tiiili- 
ty. As nothing is intrinsically right or wrong in private life, so 
nothing is intrinsically just or unjust in social life. "Justice 
has no independent existence : it results from mutual contracts, 
and establishes itself wherever there is a mutual engagement 
to guard against doing or sustaining any injury. Injustice is 
not intrinsically bad ; it has this character only because there 
is joined with it the fear of not escaping those who are appoint- 
ed to punish actions marked with this character.'" Society is 
thus a contract — an agreement to promote each other's happi- 
ness. And inasmuch as the happiness of the individual de- 
pends in a great degree upon the general happiness, the es- 
sence of his ethical system, in its political aspects, is contained 
in inculcating "the greatest happiness of the greatest number." 

If you ask Epicurus what a man shall do when it is clearly 
his immediate interest to violate the social contract, he would 
answer, that if your general interest is secured by always ob- 
serving it, you must make momentary sacrifices for the sake of 
future good. But "when, in consequence of new circumstan- 
ces, a thing which has been pronounced just does not any long- 
er appear to agree with utility, the thing which was just 

ceases to be just the moment it ceases to be useful.'"* So that 
self-interest is still the basis of all virtue. And if, by the per- 
formance of duty, you are exposed to great suffering, and es- 
pecially to death, you are perfectly justified in the violation of 
any and all contracts. Such is the social morality of Epicurus. 

With coarse and energetic minds the doctrine of Epicurus 
would inevitably lead to the grossest sensuality and crime ; 
with men whose temperament was more apathetic, or whose 
tastes were more pure, it would develop a refined selfishness — 
a perfect egoism, which Epicurus has adorned with the name 
"tranquillity of mind — impassibility," (arapa^m).^ 

^ " Fundamental Maxims," Nos. 35, 36. ^ Ibid., No. 41. 

^ It is scarcely necessary to discuss the question whether, by making 
pleasure the standard of right, Epicurus intended to encourage what is 
usually called sensuality. He earnestly protested against any such unfavor- 
able interpretation of his doctrine : — " When we say that pleasure is a chief 



GREEK PiriLOSOFirY. 431 

To secure this highest kind of happiness — this pure impas- 
sivity, it was necessary to get rid of all " superstitious fears " 
of death, of supernatural beings, and of a future retribution.^ 
The cnief causes of man's misery are his illusions, his super- 
stitions, and his prejudices. "That which principally contrib- 
utes to trouble the spirit of men, is the persuasion which they 
cherish that the stars are beings imperishable and happy (z. e., 
that they are gods), and that then our thoughts and actions are 
contrary to the will of those superior beings ; they also, being 
deluded by these fables, apprehend an eternity of evils, they 
fear the insensibility of death, as though that could affect 

them " " The real freedom from this kind of trouble 

consists in being emancipated from all these things."^ And 
this emancipation is to be secured by the study of philosophy — 

good, we are not speaking of the pleasures of the debauched man, or those 
which lie in sensual enjoyment, as some think who are ignorant, and who do 
not entertain our opinions, or else interpret them perversely; but we mean 
the freedom of the body from pain, and the soul from confusion " (" Epicurus 
to Menseceus," in Diogenes Laertius, " Lives," bk. x. ch, xxvii.). The most 
obvious tendency of this doctrine is to extreme selfishness, rather than ex- 
treme sensuality — a selfishness which prefers one's own comfort and ease 
to every other consideration. 

As to the personal character of Epicurus, opinions have been divided 
both in ancient and modern times. By some the garden has been called a 
" sty." Epicurus has been branded as a libertine, and the name " Epicurean " 
has, in almost all languages, become the synonym of sensualism. Diogenes 
Laertius repels all the imputations which are cast upon the moral character 
of his favorite author, and ascribes them to the malignity and falsehood of 
the Stoics. " The most modern criticism seems rather inclined to revert to 
the vulgar opinion respecting him, rejecting, certainly with good reason, the 
fanatical panegyrics of some French and English writers of the last century. 
Upon the whole, we are inclined to believe that Epicurus was an apathetic, 
decorous, formal man, who was able, without much difiiculty, to cultivate a 
measured and even habit of mind, who may have occasionally indulged in 
sensual gratifications to prove that he thought them lawful, but who gener- 
ally preferred, as a matter of taste, the exercises of the intellect to the more 
violent forms of self-indulgence. And this life, it seems to us, would be 
most consistent with his opinions. To avoid commotion, to make the stream 
of life flow on as easily as possible, was clearly the aim of his philosophy." — 
Maurice's "Ancient Philosophy," p. 236. 

^ Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. i. 1. 100-118, 
^ Epicurus to Herodotus, in D'ogenes Laertius, "Lives of the Philoso- 
phers," p. 453 (Bohn's edition). 



432 CHRISTIANITY AND 

that is, of that philosophy which explains every thing on natu- 
ral or physical principles, and excludes all supernatural powers. 

That ignorance which occasions man's misery is twofold, 
(i.) Ignorance of the external worlds which leads to superstition. 
All unexplained phenomena are ascribed to unseen, supernatu- 
ral powers; often to malignant powers, which take pleasure 
in tormenting man ; sometimes to a Supreme and Righteous 
Power, which rewards and punishes men for their good or evil 
conduct. Hence a knowledge of Physics, particularly the 
physics which Democritus taught, was needful to deliver men 
from false hopes and false fears.^ (ii.) Ignorance of the nature 
of man ^ of his faculties, powers, a?id the sources and limits of his 
knowledge, from v/hence arise illusions, prejudices, and errors. 
Hence the need of Psychology to ascertain the real grounds 
of human knowledge, to explain the origin of man's illusions, 
to exhibit the groundlessness of his fears, and lead him to a 
just conception of the nature and end of his existence. 

Physics and Psychology are thus the only studies which 
Epicurus would tolerate as "conducive to the happiness of 
man." The pursuit of truth for its own sake was useless. 
Dialectics, which distinguish the true from the false, the good 
from the bad, on d priori grounds, must be banished as an un- 
necessary toil, which yields no enjoyment. Theology must be 
cancelled entirely, because it fosters superstitious fears. The 
idea of God's taking knowledge of, disapproving, condemning, 
punishing the evil conduct of men, is an unpleasant thought. 
Physics and Psychology are the most useful, because the most 
" agreeable," the most "comfortable" sciences. 

^ " The study of physics contributes more than any thing else to the tran- 
quillity and happiness of life." — Diogenes Laertius, " Lives," bk. x. eh. xxiv. 
'* For thus it is that fear restrains all men, because they observe many 
things effected on the earth and in heaven, of which effects they can by no 
means see the causes, and therefore think that they are wrought by a divine 
power. For which reasons, when we have clearly seen that nothing can be 
produced from nothing, we shall have a more accurate perception of that 
of which we are in search, and shall understand whence each individual 
thing is generated, and how all things are done without the agency of the 
gods." — Lucretius, "On the Nature of Things," bk. i. 1. 145-150. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 433 

EPICUREAN PHYSICS. 

In his physical theories Epicurus followed Leucippus and 
Democritus. He expounds these theories in his letters to 
Herodotus and Pythocles, which are preserved in Diogenes 
Laertius/ We shall be guided mainly by his own statements, 
and when his meaning is obscure, or his exposition is incom- 
plete, we shall avail ourselves of the more elaborate statements 
of Lucretius,^ who is uniformly faithful to the doctrine of Epi- 
curus, and universally regarded as its best expounder. 

The fundamental principle of his philosophy is the ancient 
maxim — '■^ de nihilo nihil., in nihilum nil posse reverti;" but in- 
stead of employing this maxim in the sense in which it is used 
by Parmenides, Anaxagoras, Empedocles, and others, to prove 
there must be something self-existent and eternal, or m other 
words, "that nothing which once was not can ever of itself 
come into being," he uses it to disprove a divine creation, and 
even presents the maxim in an altered form — viz., " nothing is 
ever divinely generated frorh nothing ;"^ and he thence con- 
cludes that the world was by no means made for us by divine 
power."* Nature is eternal. "The universal whole always 
was such as it now is, and always will be such." "The uni- 
verse also is infinite, for that which is finite has a limit, but the 
universe has no limit."* 

- The two great principles of nature are a vaamm, and a ple- 
num. The plenum is body, or tangible nature ; the vacuum is 
space, or intangible nature. "We know by the evidences of 
the senses (which are our only rule of reasoning) that bodies 
have a real existence, and we infer from the evidence of the 
senses that the vacuum has a real existence j for if space have 
no real existence, there would be nothing in which bodies can 
move, as we see they really do move. Let us add to this re- 
flection that one can not conceive, either in virtue of percep- 

* " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ^ " De Natura Rerum." 

" Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. i. * Ibid. 

^ Diogenes Laertius, "Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxiv. 

28 



434 



CHRISTIANITY AXD 



tion, or of any analogy founded on perception, any general 
quality peculiar to all beings, which is not either an attribute, 
or an accident, of the body or of the vacuum.'" 

Of bodies some are " combinations " — concrete bodies — and 
some are primordial " elements," out of which combinations 
are formed. These primordial elements, out of which the uni- 
verse is generated, are ^^ atoms ^^ (aro/ioi). These atoms are 
" the first principles " and " seeds " of all things.'' They are 
^^ infinite in number," and, as their name implies, they are 
'•'■infrangible^^ '''• wichangeable^^ and ^^ indestructible. ^^'^ Matter is, 
therefore, not infinitely divisible ; there must be a point at 
which division ends.* 

The only qualities of atoms 2irQ.form, magnitude, and dejisity. 
All the other sensible qualities of matter — the secondary qual- 
ities — ^ color, odor, sweetness, bitterness, etc. — are necessarily 
inherent in form. ^11 secondary qualities are changeable, but 
the primary atoms are unchangeable; "for in the dissolution of 
combined bodies there must be something solid and indestruc- 
tible, of such a kind that it will not change, either into what 
does not exist, or out of what does not exist, but the change 
results from a simple displacement of parts, which is the most 
usual case, or from an addition or subtraction of particles."^ 

The atoms are not all of one form, but of different forms 
suited to the production of different substances by combina- 
tion ; some are square, some triangular, some smooth and 
spherical, some are hooked with points. They are also diver- 
sified in magnitude and dejtsity. The number of original forms 
is " incalculably varied," but not infinite. " Every variety of 
forms contains an infinitude of atoms, but there is not, for that 
reason, an infinitude of forms ; it is only the number of them 
which is beyond computation."® To assert that atoms are of 
every kind of form, magnitude, and density, would be " to con- 

^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxiv. 
^ Id., ib., bk. X, ch. xxv. ^ Id., ib., bk. x. ch. xxiv. 

* Id., ib.; Lucretius, "On the Nature of Things," bk. i. 1. 616-620. 
' Diogenes Laertius, ** Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxiv. 
^ Id., ib. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 435 

tradict the phenomena ;" for experience teaches us that objects 
have a finite magnitude, and form necessarily supposes limi- 
tation. 

A variety of these primordial forms enter into the composi- 
tion of all sensible objects, because sensible objects possess 
different qualities, and these diversified qualities can only re- 
sult from the combination of different original forms. " The 
earth has, in itself, primary atoms from which springs, rolling 
forth cool water, incessantly recruit the immense sea ; it has 

also atoms from which ^re arises Moreover, the earth 

contains atoms from which it can raise up rich corn and cheer- 
ful groves for the tribes of men " So that "no object in 

nature is constituted of one kind of elements, and whatever 
possesses in itself most numerous powers and energies, thus 
demonstrates that it contains more numerous kinds of primary 
particles,"^ or primordial " seeds of things." 

" The atoms are in a continual state of motion,'' and " have 
moved with e^ual rapidity from all eternity, since it is evident 
the vacuum can offer no resistance to the heaviest, any more 
than the lightest." The primary and original movement of all 
atoms is in straight lines, by virtue of their own weight ^ The 
vacuum separates all atoms one from another, at greater or less 
distances, and they preserve their own peculiar motion in the 
densest substances.^ 

And now the grand crucial question arises — How do atoms 
combine so as to form concrete bodies'} If they move in straight 
lines, and with equal rapidity from all eternity, then they can 
never unite so as to form concrete substances. They can only 
coalesce by deviating from a straight line.' How are they 
made to deviate from a straight line ? This deviation must be 

^ Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," bk i. 1. 582-600. 

^ Diogenes Laertius, "Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxiv.; Lucre- 
tius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. i. 1. 80-92. 

^ "At some time, though at no fixed and determinate time, and at some 
point, though at no fixed and determinate point, they turn aside from the 
right line, but only so far as you can call the least possible deviation." — 
Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. ii. 1. 216-222. 



436 CHRISTIANITY AND 

introduced arbitrarily, or by some external cause. And inas- 
much as Epicurus admits of no causes " but space and matter," 
and rejects all divine or supernatural interposition, the new 
movement must be purely arbitrary. They deviate spontane- 
ously, and of their own accord. " The system of nature imme- 
diately appears as a free agent, released from tyrant masters, to 
do every thing of itself spontaneously, without the help of the 
gods."^ The manner in which Lucretius proves this doctrine 
is a good example of the petitio principii. He assumes, in 
opposition to the whole spirit and tendency of the Epicurean 
philosophy, that man has "a free will," and then argues that 
if man, who is nothing but an aggregation of atoms, can " turn 
aside and alter his own movements," the primary elements, of 
which his soul is composed, must have some original sponta- 
neity. " If all motion is connected and dependent, and a new 
movement perpetually arises from a former one in a certain 
order, and if the primary elements do not produce any com- 
mencement of motion by deviating from the straight line to 
break the laws of fate, so that cause may not follow cause in 
infinite succession, whe7ice conies this freedom of will to all ani- 
mals in the world.? whence, I say, is this liberty of action 
wrested from the fates, by means of which we go wheresoever 
inclination leads each of us ? whence is it that we ourselves 
turn aside, and alter our motions, not at any fixed time, nor in 

any fixed part of space, but just as our own minds prompt? 

Wherefore we must necessarily confess that the same is the 
case with the seeds of matter, and there is some other cause 
besides strokes and weight [resistance and density] from which 
this power [of free movement] is innate in them, since we see 
that 7iothi7ig is produced from nothingy^ Besides form, exten- 
sion, and density, Epicurus has found another inherent or es- 
sential quality of matter or atoms, namely, '''■spontaneous'^ motion. 
By a slight "voluntary" deflection from the straight line, 
atoms are now brought into contact with each other ; " they 

* Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things " bk. ii. 1. 1092-1096. 
'^ Id., ib,, bk. ii. 1. 250-290. 



GREEK rniLOSOPHY. 437 

Strike against each other, and by the percussion new move- 
ments and new complications arise " — " movements from high 
to low, from low to high, and horizontal movements to and fro, 
in virtue of this reciprocal percussion." The atoms "jostling 
about, of their own accord, in infinite modes, were often brought 
together confusedly, irregularly, and to no purpose, but at 
length they success/idly coalesced ; at least, such of them as were 
thrown together suddenly became, in succession, the beginnings 
of great things — as earth, and air, and sea, and heaven."^ 

And now Lucretius shall describe the formation of the dif- 
ferent parts of the world according to the cosmogony of Epicu- 
rus. We quote from Good's translation : 

'* But from this boundless mass of matter first 
How heaven, and earth, and ocean, sun, and moon, 
Rose in nice order, now the muse shall tell. 
For never, doubtless, from result of thought. 
Or mutual compact, could primordial seeds 
First harmonize, or move with powers precise. 
But countless crowds in countless manners urged, 
From time eternal, by intrinsic weight 
And ceaseless repercussion, to combine 
In all the possibilities of forms. 
Of actions, and connections, and exert 
In every change some effort to create — 
Reared the rude frame at length, abruptly reared, 
Which, when once gendered, must the basis prove 
Of things sublime ; and whence eventual rose 
Heaven, earth, and ocean, and the tribes of sense. 

Yet now nor sun on fiery wheel was seen 
Riding sublime, nor stars adorned the pole. 
Nor heaven, nor earth, nor air, nor ocean lived, 
Nor aught of prospect mortal sight surveyed ; . 
But one vast chaos, boisterous and confused. 
Yet order hence began ; congenial parts 
Parts joined congenial; and the rising world 
Gradual evolved : its mighty members each 
From each divided, and matured complete 
From seeds appropriate; whose wild discortderst. 
Reared by their strange diversities of form, 
With ruthless war so broke their proper paths, 
Their motions, intervals, conjunctions, weights. 
And repercussions, nought of genial act 

^ Lucretius, "On the Nature of Things," bk. ii. 1. 1051-1065. 



438 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Till now could follow, nor the seeds themselves, 
E'en though conjoined in mutual bonds, cohere. 
Thus air, secreted, rose o'er laboring earth ; 
Secreted ocean flowed ; and the pure fire, 
Secreted too, toward ether sprang sublime. 

But first the seeds terrene, smce ponderous most 
And most perplext, in close embraces clung, 
And towards the centre conglobating sunk. 
And as the bond grew firmer, ampler forth 
Pressed they the fluid essences that reared 
Sun, moon, and stars, and main, and heaven's high wall. 
For those of atoms lighter far consist, 
. Subtiler, and more rotund than those of earth. 
Whence, from the pores terrene, with foremost haste 
Rushed the bright ether, towering high, and swift 
Streams of fire attracting as it flowed. 

Then mounted, next, the base of sun and moon, 
'Twixt earth and ether, in the midway air 
Rolling their orbs ; for into neither these 
Could blend harmonious, since too light with earth 
To sink deprest, while yet too ponderous far 
To fly with ether toward the realms extreme : 
So 'twixt the two they hovered ; vital there 
Moving forever, parts of the vast whole ; 
As move forever in the frame of man 
Some active organs, while some oft repose."^ 

After explaining the origin and causes of the varied celes- 
tial phenomena, he proceeds to give an account of the produc- 
tion of plants, animals, and man : 

"Once more return we to the world's pure prime. 
Her fields yet liquid, and the tribes survey 
First she put forth, and trusted to the winds. 

And first the race she reared of verdant herbs, 
Glistening o'er every hill ; the fields at large 
Shone with the verdant tincture, and the trees 
Felt the deep impulse, and with outstretched arms 
Broke from their bonds rejoicing. As the down 
Shoots from the winged nations, or from beasts 
Bristles or hair, so poured the new-born earth 
Plants, fruits, and herbage. Then, in order next. 
Raised she the sentient tribes, in various modes. 
By various powers distinguished : for not heaven 
Down dropped them, nor from ocean's briny waves 
Sprang they, terrestrial sole ; whence, justly Earth 

^ Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," b. v. I. 431-498. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 439 

Claims the dear name of mother, since alone 
Flowed from herself whate'er the sight surveys. 

E'en now oft rears she many a sentient tribe 
By showers and sunshine ushered into day.^ 
Whence less stupendous tribes should then have risen 
More, and of ampler make, herself new-formed, 
In flower of youth, and Ether all mature.'^ 

Of these birds first, of wing and plume diverse, 
Broke their light shells in spring-time : as in spring 
Still breaks the grasshopper his curious web, 
And seeks, spontaneous, foods and vital air. 

Then rushed the ranks of mortals ; for the soil, 
Exuberant then, with warmth and moisture teemed. 
So, o'er each scene appropriate, myriad wombs 
Shot, and expanded, to the genial sward 
By fibres fixt ; and as, in ripened hour. 
Their liquid orbs the daring foetus broke 
Of breath impatient, nature here transformed 
Th' assenting earth, and taught her opening veins 
With juice to flow lacteal ; as the fair 
Now with sweet milk o'erflows, whose raptured breast 
First hails the stranger-babe, since all absorbed 
Of nurture, to the genial tide converts. 
Earth fed the nursling, the warm ether clothed, 
And the soft downy grass his couch compressed."^ 

A state of pure savagism, or rather of mere animalism, was 
the primitive condition of man. He wandered naked in the 
woods, feeding on acorns and wild fruits, and quenched his 
thirst at the "echoing waterfalls," in company with the wild 
beast. 

Through the remaining part of book v. Lucretius describes 
how speech was invented ; how society originated, and govern- 
ments were instituted ; how civilization commenced ; and how 
religion arose out of ignorance of natural causes ; how the arts 

^ The doctrine of " spontaneous generations " is still more explicitly an- 
nounced in book ii. " Manifest appearances compel us to believe that ani- 
mals, though possessed of sense, are generated from senseless atoms. For 
you may observe living worms proceed from foul dung, when the earth, 
moistened with immoderate showers, has contracted a kind of putrescence ; 
and you may see all other things change themselves, similarly, into other 
things."— Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. i. 1. 867-880. 

^ Ether is the father, earth the mother of all organized being. — Id., ib., 
bk. i. 1. 250-255. 

3 Id., ib., bk. V. 1. 795-836. 



440 



CHRISTIAJSriTY AND 



of life were discovered, and how science sprang up. And all 
this, as he is careful to tell us, without any divine instruction, 
or any assistance from the gods. 

Such are the physical theories of the Epicureans. The pri- 
mordial elements of matter are infinite, eternal, and self-moved. 
After ages upon ages of chaotic strife, the universe at length 
arose out of an infinite number of atoms, and a finite number 
of forms, by a fortuitous combination. Plants, animals, and 
man were spontaneously generated from ether and earth. Lan- 
guages, society, governments, arts were gradually developed. 
And all was achieved simply by blind, unconscious nature- 
forces, without any designing, presiding, and governing Intelli- 
gence — that is, without a God. 

The evil genius which presided over the method of Epicurus, 
and perverted all his processes of thought, is clearly apparent. 
The end of his philosophy was not the discovery of truth. He 
does not commence his inquiry into the principles or causes 
which are adequate to the explanation of the universe, with an 
unprejudiced mind. He ever\'where develops a malignant 
hostility to religion, and the avowed object of his physical theo- 
ries is to rid the human mind of all fear of supernatural powers 
— that is, of all fear of God.^ '•The phenomena which men 
observe to occur in the earth and the heavens, when, as often 
happens, they are perplexed with fearful thoughts, overawe their 
minds with a dread of the gods, and humble and depress 
them to the earth. For ignorance of natural causes obliges 
them to refer all things to the power of the divinities, and to 
resign the dominion of the world to them ; because of those 
effects they can by no means see the origin, and accordingly 
suppose that they are produced by divine influence."^ 

To "expel these fancies from the mind " as " inconsistent with 
its tranquillity and opposed to human happiness," is the end, 

^ " Let us trample religion underfoot, that the victory gained over it may 
place us on an equality with heaven" (book i.). See Diogenes Laertius, 
"Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxiv. pp. 453,454 (Bohn's edition); 
Lucretius, "On the Nature of Things," bk. i. 1. 54-120. 

"^ Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. vi. 1. 51-60. 



GREEK PIIILOSOFHY. 441 

and, as Lucretius believes, the glory of the Epicurean philoso- 
phy. To accomplish this, God must be placed at an infinite 
distance from the universe, and must be represented as indif- 
ferent to every thing that transpires within it. We " must be- 
ware of making the Deity interpose here, for that Being we 
ought to suppose exempt from all occupation^ and perfectly hap- 
py,'" — that is, absolutely impassible. God did not make the 
world, and he does not govern the world. There is no evi- 
dence of design or intelligence in its structure, and " such is 
the faultiness with which it stands affected, that it can not be 
the work of a Divine power. "^ 

Epicurus is, then, an unmistakable Atheist. He did not ad- 
mit a God in any rational sense. True, he professed to believe 
in gods, but evidently in a very equivocal manner, and solely 
to escape the popular condemnation. " They are not pure 
spirits, for there is no spirit in the atomic theory ; they are nqt 
bodies, for where are the bodies that we may call gods.'' In 
this embarrassment, Epicurus, compelled to acknowledge that 
the human race believes in the existence of gods, addresses 
himself to an old theory of Democritus — that is, he appeals to 
dreams. As in dreams there are images that act upon and 
determine in us agreeable or painful sensations, without pro- 
ceeding from exterior bodies, so the gods are images similar to 
those of dreams, but greater, having the human form \ images 
which are not precisely bodies, and yet not deprived of mate- 
riality ; which are whatever you please, but which, in short, must 
be admitted, since the human race believes in gods, and since 
the universality of the religious sentiment is a fact which de- 
mands a cause. "^ 

It is needless to offer any criticism on the reasoning of Epi- 
curus. One fact will have obviously presented itself to the 
mind of the reflecting reader. He starts with atoms having 

^ Diogenes Laertius, "Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. xxv.; Lucre- 
tius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. i. 1, 55-60. 

^ Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. v. 1. 195-200. 

^ Cousin's *' Lectures on the History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 431. 



442 CHRISTIANITY AND 

form, magnitude, and density, and essays to construct a uni- 
verse ; but he is obliged to be continually introducing, in ad- 
dition, a " najjieless something^'' which "remains in secret," to 
help him out in the explanation of the phenomena.^ He makes 
life to arise out of dead matter, sense out of senseless atoms, 
consciousness out of unconsciousness, reason out of unreason, 
without an adequate cause, and thus violates the fundamental 
principle from which he starts, " that nothing can arise from 
nothing y 

EPICUREAN PSYCHOLOGY. 

In the system of Epicurus, the soul is regarded as corporeal 
or material, like the body; they form, together, one nature or 
substance. The soul is composed of atoms " exceedingly di- 
minutive, smooth, and round, and connected with or diffused 
through the veins, viscera, and nerves. The substance of the 
soul is not to be regarded as simple and uncompounded ; its 
constituent parts are aura^ heat, and air. These are not suffi- 
cient, however, even in the judgment of Epicurus, to account 
for sensation ; " they are not adequate to generate sensible mo- 
tives such as revolve any thoughts in the mind." "A certain 
fourth nature, or substance, must, therefore, necessarily be add- 
ed to these, that is wholly without a name ; it is a substance, 
however, than which nothing exists more active or more sub- 
tile, nor is any thing more essentially composed of small and 
smooth elementary particles ; and it is this substance which 
first distributes sensible motions through the members."'^ 

Epicurus is at great pains to prove that the soul is material ; 
and it can not be denied that he marshals his arguments with 
great skill. Modern materialism may have added additional 
illustrations, but it has contributed no new lines of proof The 
weapons are borrowed from the old arsenal, and they are not 
wielded with any greater skill than they were by Epicurus 
himself, i. The soul and the body act and react upon each 

* As, e.g.^ Lucretius, *' On the Nature of Things," bk. iii. 1. 260-290. 
"^ Id., ib., bk. iii. 1. 237-250. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 443 

Other; and mutual reaction can only take place between sub- 
stances of similar nature. " Such effects can only be produced 
by touchy and touch can not take place without body"^ 2. The 
mind is produced together with the body, it grows up along 
with it, and waxes old at the same time with it.'' • 3. The mind 
is diseased along with the body, "it loses its faculties by ma- 
terial causes, as intoxication, or by severe blows ; and is some- 
times, by a heavy lethargy, borne down into a deep eternal 
sleep."^ 4. The mind, like the body, is healed by medicines, 
which proves that it exists only as a mortal substance." 5. 
The mind does not always, and at the same time, continue ejt- 
tire and unimpaired, some faculties decay before the others, 
" the substance of the soul is therefore divided." On all these 
grounds the soul must be deemed mortal ; it is dissolved along 
with the body, and has no conscious existence after death. 

Such being the nature of the soul, inasmuch as it is mate- 
rial, all its knowledge must be derived from sensation. The 
famous doctrine of perception, as taught by Epicurus, is ground- 
ed upon this pre-supposition that the soul is corporeal. " The 
iiliSka cLTToppoiai — imagines, simulacra rerum, etc., are, like pel- 
licles, continually flying off from objects ; and these material 
* likenesses,' diffusing themselves everywhere in the air, are 
propelled to the perceptive organs." These images of things 
coming in contact with the senses produce sensation (aiadrjaig). 
A sensation may be considered either as regards its object, or 
as regards him who experiences it. As regards him who expe- 
riences it, it is simply a passive affection, an agreeable or disa- 
greeable feeling, passion, or sentiment (-0 Tradog). But along 
with sensation there is inseparably associated some knowledge 
of the object which excites sensation ; and it is for this reason 
that Epicurus marked the intimate relation of these two phe- 
nomena by giving them analogous names. Because the sec- 
ond phenomenon is joined to the first, he calls it ETraladrjaLg — 

^ Lucretius, "On the Nature of Things," bk. iii. 1. 138-168. 

^ Id, ib,, bk. iii. 1. 444-460. ^ Id., ib., bk. iii. 1. 438-490. 

* Id., ib., bk. iii. 1. 500-520. 



444 CHRISTIANITY AND 

perceptioJi. It is sensation viewed especially in regard to its 
object — representative sensatmi^ or the "sensible idea" of mod- 
ern philosophy. It is from perception that we draw our gen- 
eral ideas by a kind of prolepsis (Trp6\rj\l^tQ) — an anticipation or 
laying hold by reason of that which is implied in sensation. 
Now all sensations are alike true in so far as they are sensa- 
tions, and error arises from false reasoning about the testimony 
of sense. All knowledge is purely relative and contingent, 
and there is no such thing as necessary and absolute truth. 

The system of Epicurus is thus a system, of pure material- 
ism, but not a system of materialism drawn, as a logical conse- 
quence, from a careful and unprejudiced study of the whole 
phenomena of mind. His openly avowed design is to deliver 
men from the fear of death, and rid them of all apprehension 
of a future retribution. " Did men but know that there was a 
fixed limit to their woes, they would be able, in some measure, 
to defy the religious fictions and menaces of the poets ; but 
now, since we must fear eternal punishment at death, there is 
no mode, no means of resisting them."^ To emancipate men 
from " these terrors of the mind," they must be taught " that 
the soul is mortal, and dissolves with the body " — that " death 
is nothing to us, for that which is dissolved is devoid of sensa- 
tion, and that which is devoid of sensation is nothing to us."^ 
Starting with the fixed determination to prove that 

"Death is nothing, and naught after death," 

he will not permit any mental phenomena to suggest to him 
the idea of an incorporeal spiritual substance. Matter, under 
any form known to Epicurus, is confessedly insufficient to ex- 
plain sensation and thought; a "nameless something" must 
be supposed. But may not " that principle which lies ejttirely 
hid, and remains in sec?'et"^ — and about which even Epicurus 

^ Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. i. 1. 100-118. 
^ Diogenes Laertius, Maxim 2, in " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. x. ch. 
xxxi. 

^ Lucretius, " On the Nature of Things," bk. iii. 1. 275-280. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 445 

does not know any thing — be a spiritual, an immaterial princi- 
ple ? For aught that he knows it may as properly be called 
'"'■ spirit'' as matter. May not sensation and cognition be the re- 
sult of the union of matter and spirit ; and if so, may not their 
mutual affections, their common sympathies, be the necessary 
conditions of sensation and cognition in the present life ? A 
reciprocal relation between body and mind appears in all men- 
tal phenomena. A certain proportion in this relation is called 
mental health. A deviation from it is termed disease. This 
proportion is by no means an equilibrium, but the perfect 
adaptation of the body, without injury to its integrity, to the 
purposes of the mind. And if this be so, all the arguments of 
materialism fall to the ground. 

The concluding portion of the third book, iii which Lucre- 
tius discourses on death., is a mournful picture of the condition 
of the heathen mind before Christianity " brought life and im- 
mortality fully to light." It comes to us, like a voice from the 
grave of two thousand years, to prove they were "without 
hope." To be delivered from the fear of future retribution, 
they would sacrifice the hope of an immortal life. To extin- 
tinguish guilt they would annihilate the soul. The only way 
in which Lucretius can console man in prospect of death is, 
by reminding him that he will escape the ills of life. 

" * But thy dear home shall never greet thee more ! 
No more the best of wives ! — thy babes beloved, 
Whose haste half-met thee, emulous to snatch 
The dulcet kiss that roused thy secret soul, 
Again shall never hasten !— nor thine arm, 
With deeds heroic, guard thy country's weal ! — 
Oh mournful, mournful fate !' thy friends exclaim ! 
' One envious hour of these invalued joys 
Robs thee forever !' — But they add not here, 
*7? robs thee, too, of all desire of joy'' — 
A truth, once uttered, that the mind would free 
From every dread and trouble. ' Thou art safe ! 
The sleep of death protects thee, and secures 
From all the unnumbered woes of mortal life ! 
While we, alas ! the sacred urn around 
That holds thine ashes, shall insatiate weep. 
Nor time destroy the eternal grief we feel !' 



446 CHRISTIANITY AND 

What, then, has death, if death be mere repose, 
And quiet only in a peaceful grave, — 
What has it thus to mar this life of man ?"^ 

This is all the comfort that Epicureanism can offer ; and if 
" the wretch still laments the approach of death," she addresses 
him " with voice severe " — 

" Vile coward ! dry thine eyes — 
Hence with thy snivelling sorrows, and depart !" 

It is evident that such a system of philosophy outrages the 
purest and noblest sentiments of humanity, and, in fact, con- 
demns itself. It was born of selfishness and social degeneracy, 
and could perpetuate itself only in an age of corruption, because 
it inculcated the lawfulness of sensuality and the impunity of 
injustice. Its existence at this precise period in Grecian his- 
tory forcibly* illustrates the truth, that Atheism is a disease of 
the heart rather than the head. It seeks to set man free to 
follow his own inclinations, by ridding him of all faith in a 
Divinity and in an immortal life, and thus exonerating him 
from all accountability and all future retribution. But it failed 
to perceive that, in the most effectual manner, it annihilated 
all real liberty, all true nobleness, and made of man an abject 
slave. 

STOICISM. 

The Stoical school was founded by Zeno of Citium, who 
flourished B.C. 290. He taught in the Stoa Poecile, or Painted 
Porch; and his disciples thence derived the name of Stoics. 
Zeno was succeeded by Clean thes (b.c. 260) ; and Cleanthes 
by Chrysippus (b.c. 240), whose vigorous intellect gave unity 
and completeness to the Stoical philosophy. He is reported 
to have said to Cleanthes, — " Give me your doctrines, and I 
will find the demonstrations.'"* 

None of the writings of the early Stoics, save a " Hymn to 
Jupiter," by Cleanthes, have survived. We are chiefly indebted 

' Lucretius, ** On the Nature of Things," bk. iii. 1. 906-926. 

^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. vii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 447 

to Diogenes Laertius ^ and Cicero ^ for an insight into their 
system. The Hymn of Cleanthes sheds some hght on their 
Theology, and their moral principles are exhibited in "The 
Fragments " of Epictetus, and " The Life and Meditations " of 
Marcus Aurelius. 

The philosophy of the Stoics, like that of the Epicureans, 
was mainly a philosophy of life — that is, a moral philosophy. 
The manner in which they approached the study of morals, and 
the principles upon which they grounded morality, were, how- 
ever, essentially different. 

The grand object of Epicurus was to make the current of 
life flow on as comfortably as possible, without any distracting 
thoughts of the past or any disturbing visions of the future. 
He therefore starts with this fundamental principle, that the 
true philosophy of life is to enjoy one's self — the aim of exist- 
ence is to be happy. Whatever in a man's beliefs or conduct 
tends to secure happiness is right ; whatever awakens uneasi- 
ness, apprehension, or fear, is wrong. And inasmuch as the 
idea of a Divine Creator and Governor of the universe, and 
the belief in a future life and retribution, are uncomfortable 
thoughts, exciting superstitious fears, they ought to be rejected. 
The Physics and the Psychology of Epicurus are thus the nat- 
ural outgrowth of his Morality. 

Zeno was evidently a more earnest, serious, and thoughtful 
man. He cherished a nobler ideal of life than to suppose 
" man must do voluntarily, what the brute does instinctively — 
eschew pain, and seek pleasure." He therefore seeks to ascer- 
tain whether there be not some "principle of nature," or some 
law of nature, which determines what is right in human action 
— whether there be not some light under which, on contem- 
plating an action, we may at once proirounce upon its intrinsic 
rightness, or otherwise. This he believes he has found in the 
U7iiversal reasoft which fashioned, and permeates, and vivifies 
the universe, and is the light and life of the human soul. "The 

^ " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. 
^ " De Fin.," and " De Natura Deorum." 



448 CHRISTIANITY AND 

chief good is, confessedly, to live according to nature ; which is 

to live according to virtue, for nature leads us to that point 

For our individual natures are all part of the universal na- 
ture ; on which account, the chief good is to live in a manner 
corresponding to one's own nature, and to universal nature ; 
doing none of those things which the common law of mankind 
(the universal conscience of our race) forbids. That common 
law is identical with right reason which pervades every things 
being the same with Jupiter (Zsvg), who is the regulator and chief 
manager of all existing things.^^'^ The foundation of the ethical 
system of the Stoics is thus laid in their philosophy of nature 
— their Physiology and Psychology. If, therefore, we would 
apprehend the logical connection and unity of Stoicism, we 
must follow their order of thought — that is, we must commence 
with their 

.PHYSIOLOGY. 

Diogenes Laertius tells us that the Stoics held " that there 
are two general principles in the universe — the passive princi- 
ple {to ttcktxov), which is matter, an existence without any dis- 
tinctive quality, and vthe active principle {to ttoiovv), which is 
the reason existing in the passive, that is to say, God. For 
that He, being eternal, and existing throughout all matter, 
makes every thing. '"^ This Divine Reason, acting upon mat- 
ter, originates the necessary and unchangeable laws which gov- 
ern matter — laws which the Stoics called \6yoi (nrep/jiaTiKoi — 
generating reasons or causes of things. The laws of the world 
are, like eternal reason, necessary and immutable ; hence the 
eifiapnivri — the Desti7ty of the Stoics, which is also one of the 
names of the Deity.^ But by Destiny the Stoics could not 
understand a blind unconscious necessity; it is rather the 
highest reason in the universe. " Destiny {elfjiapfxiyr)) is a con- 

* Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. liii. 
^ Id., ib., bk. vii. ch. Ixviii. 

^ " They teach that God is unity, and that he is called Mind, and Fate, 
and Jupiter." — Id., ib., bk. vii. ch. Ixviii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY, 449 

nected (e'lpofihr)) cause of things, or the reason according to 
which the world is regulated."^ 

These two principles are not, however, regarded by the Sto- 
ics as having a distinct, separate, and independent existence. 
One is substance {ohaia) ; the other is quality (ttoIoc). The 
primordial matter is the passive ground of all existence — the 
original substratum for the Divine activity. The Divine Rea- 
son is the active or formative energy which dwells within, and 
is essentially united to, the primary substance. The Stoics, 
therefore, regarded all existence as reducible, in its last analy- 
sis, to ojie subsfafice, which on the side of its passivity and ca- 
pacity of change, they called hyk {vXt}) f and on the side of its 

^ Diogenes Laertius, "Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. Ixxiv. 

^ Or " matter." A good deal of misapprehension has arisen from con- 
founding the intellectual v?iV of Aristotle and the Stoics with the gross phys- 
ical " matter " of the modern physicist. By " matter " we now understand 
that which is corporeal, tangible, sensible ; whereas by v?i^v, Aristotle and 
the Stoics (who borrowed the term from him) understood that which is in- 
corporeal, intangible, and inapprehensible to sense, — an " unknown some- 
thing " which must necessarily be supposed as the condition of the existence 
of things. The formal cause of Aristotle is " the substance and essence " — 
the primary nature of things, on which all their properties depend. The ma- 
terial cause is " the matter or subject " through which the primary nature 
manifests itself. Unfortunately the term " material " misleads the modern 
thinker. He is in danger of supposing the hyle of Aristotle to be something 
sensible and physical, whereas it is an intellectual principle whose inherence 
is implied in any physical thing. It is something distinct from body, and has 
none of those properties we are now accustomed to ascribe to matter. Body, 
corporeity, is the result of the union of " hyle " and " form." Stobaeus thus 
expounds the doctrine of Aristotle : Form alone, separate from matter ipaj) 
is incorporeal ; so matter alone, separated from form, is not body. But there 
is need of the joint concurrence of both these — matter and form — to make 
the substance of body." Every individual substance is thus a totality of 
matter and form — a cvvokov. 

The Stoics taught that God is oneliness (Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the 
Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. Ixviii.) ; that he is eternal and immortal (bk. vii. 
ch. Ixxii.); he could not, therefore, be corporeal, for "body \^ finite, divisi- 
ble, 2ixA perishable'''' (bk. vii. ch. Ixxvii.). "All the parts of the world are per- 
ishable, for they change one into another ; therefore the world is perish- 
able" (bk. vii. ch. Ixx.). The Deity is not, therefore, absolutely identified 
with the world by the Stoics. He permeates all things, creates and dis- 
solves all things, and is, therefore, more than all things. The world is finite ; 
God is infinite. 

29 



45 o CHRISTIANITY AND 

changeless energy and immutable order, they called God. The 
corporeal world — physical nature — is "a peculiar manifesta- 
tion " of God, generated from his own substance, and, after cer- 
tain periods, absorbed in himself. Thus God, considered in 
the evolution of His power, is nature. And nature, as attached 
to its immanent principle, is called God.^ The fundamental 
doctrine of the Stoics was a spiritual, ideal, intellectual panthe- 
ism, of which the proper formula is. All things are God, but God 
is ?iot all things. 

Schwegler affirms that, in physics, the Stoics, for the most 
part, followed Heraclitus, and especially " carried out the prop- 
osition that nothing incorporeal exists ; every thing is essen- 
tially corporeal." The pantheism of Zeno is therefore ^^ mate- 
rialistic.''^^ This is not a just representation of the views of the 
early Stoics, and can not be sustained by a fair interpretation 
of their teaching. " They say that principles and elements dif- 
fer from each other. Principles have no generation or begin- 
ning, and will have no end ; but elements may be destroyed. 
Also, that elements have bodies, and have forms, but principles 
have 710 bodies, and no forms. "^ Principles are, therefore, incor- 
poreal. Furthermore, Cicero tells us that they taught that the 
universal harmony of the world resulted from all things being 
" contained by one Divine Spirit ;"* and also, that reason in 
man is " nothing else but part of the Divine Spirit merged into 
a human body."^ It thus seems evident that the Stoics made 
a distinction between corruptible elefnents (fire, air, earth, water) 
and 'mcoxTM^\.\h\Q.pri7tciples, by which and out of which elements 
were generated, and also between corporeal and incorporeal 
substances. 

On a careful collation of the fragmentary remains of the 
early Stoics, we fancy we catch glimpses of the thecfry held by 
some modern pantheists, that the material elements, " having 

* Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. Ixx. 
^ Schwegler's " History of Philosophy," p. 140. 

^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. Ixviii. 

* " De Natura Deorum," bk. ii. ch. xiii. * Ibid, bk. ii. ch. xxxi. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 451 

body and form," are a vital transformation of the Divine sub- 
stance ; and that the forces of nature — " the generating causes 
or reasons of things " (\oyoi o-TTfpyuartra/) — are a conscious trans- 
mutation of the Divine energy. This theory is more than 
hinted in the following passages, which we slightly transpose 
from the order in which they stand in Diogenes Laertius, with- 
out altering their meaning. " They teach that the Deity was 
in the beginning by himself ^^ .... that " first of all, he made 
the four elements, fire, water, air, and earth." * " The fire is the 
highest, and that is called aether, in which, first of all, the 
sphere was generated in which the fixed stars are set ... ; 
after that the air ; then the water ; and the sediment, as it were, 
of all, is the earth, which is placed in the centre of the rest." 
"He turned into water the whole substance which pervaded 
the air ; and as the seed is contained in the product, so, too, 
He, being the seminal principle of the world, remained still in 
moisture, making matter fit to be employed by himself in the 
production of things which were to come after. "^ The Deity 
thus draws the universe out of himself, transmuting the divine 
substance into body and form. " God is a being of a certain 
quality, having for his peculiar manifestation universal sub- 
stance. He is a being imperishable, and who never had any 
generation, being the maker of the arrangement and order that 
we see ; and who at certain 'periods of time absorbs all sub- 
stance in himself and then reproduces it from himself ''^'^ And 
now, in the last analysis, it would seem as though every thing 
is resolved into force. God and the world are power, and its 
manifestation, and these are ultimately one. "This identifi- 
cation of God and the world, according to which the Stoics 
regarded the whole formation of the universe as but a period 
in the development of God, renders their remaining doctrine 
concerning the world very simple. Every thing in the world 
seemed to be permeated by the Divine life, and was regarded 
as the flowing out of this most perfect life through certain 

^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. Ixviii., Ixix. 
^ Id., ib., bk. vii. ch. Ixx. 



452 CHRISTIANITY AND 

channels, until it returns, in a necessary circle, back to 
itself."^ 

The God of the Stoics is not, however, a mere principle of 
life vitalizing nature, but an intelligent principle directing na- 
ture ; and, above all, a moral principle, governing the human 
race. " God is a living being, immortal, rational, perfect, and 
intellectual in his happiness, unsusceptible of any kind of evil ; 
having a foreknowledge of the world, and of all that is in the 
world. '"* He is also the gracious Providence which cares for 
the individual as well as for the whole; and he is the author of 
that natural law which commands the good and prohibits the 
bad. " He made men to this end that they might be happy ; 
as becomes his fatherly care of us, he placed our good and 
evil in those things which are in our own power. "^ The Provi- 
dence and Fatherhood of God are strikingly presented in the 
" Hymn of Cleanthes " to Jupiter — 

■' Most glorious of the immortal Powers above ! 
O thou of many names ! mysterious Jove ! 
For evermore almighty ! Nature's source ! 
Thou governest all things in their order'd course ! 
All hail to thee ! since, innocent of blame, 
E'en mortal creatures may address thy name ; 
For all that breathe, and creep the lowly earth. 
Echo thy being with reflected birth — 
Thee will I sing, thy strength for aye resound : 
The universe, that rolls this globe around. 
Moves wheresoe'er thy plastic influence guides, 
And, ductile, owns the god whose arm presides. 
The lightnings are thy ministers of ire ; 
The double-forked and ever-living fire ; 
In thy unconquerable hands they glow, 
And at the flash all nature quakes below. 
Thus, thunder-armed, thou dost creation draw 
To one immense, inevitable law ; 
And, with the various mass of breathing souls. 
Thy power is mingled, and thy spirit rolls. 
Dread genius of creation ! all things bow 
To thee : the universal monarch thou ! 

^ Schwegler's " History of Philosophy," p. 141. 

"^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. Ixxii. 

^ Marcus Aurelius, bk. iii. ch. xxiv. 



GREEK PHILOSOrHT. 453 

Nor aught is done without thy wise control, 

On earth, or sea, or round the ethereal pole, 

Save when the wicked, in their frenzy blind, 

Act o'er the follies of a senseless mind. 

Thou curb'st th' excess ; confusion, to thy sight. 

Moves regular ; th' unlovely scene is bright. 

Thy hand, educing good from evil, brings 

To one apt harmony the strife of things. 

One ever-during law still binds the whole. 

Though shunned, resisted, by the sinner's soul. 

Wretches ! while still they course the glittering prize. 

The law of God eludes their ears and eyes. 

Life, then, were virtue, did they thus obey ; 

But wide from life's chief good they headlong stray : 

Now glory's arduous toils the breast inflame; 

Now avarice thirsts, insensible of shame ; 

Now sloth unnerves them in voluptuous ease, 

And the sweet pleasures of the body please. 

With eager haste they rush the gulf within. 

And their whole souls are centred in their sin. 

But, oh, great Jove ! by whom all good is given ! 

Dweller with lightnings and the clouds of heaven! 

Save from 1;Jieir dreadful error lost mankind ! 

Father ! disperse these shadows of the mind ! 

Give them thy pure and righteous law to knowj 

Wherewith thy justice governs all below. 

Thus honored by the knowledge of thy way, 

Shall men that honor to thyself repay ; 

And bid thy mighty works in praises ring, 

As well befits a mortal's lips to sing : 

More blest, nor men, nor heavenly powers can be, 

Than when their songs are of thy law and thee."^ 

PSYCHOLOGY. 

As in the world there are two principles, the passive and 
the active, so in the understanding there are two elements : a 
passive element — sensation^ and an active element — reason. 

All" knowledge commences with the phenomena of sensation 
(aiaQi\aiq). This produces in the soul an image ((^avrao-m), 
which corresponds to the exterior object, and which Chrysip- 
pus regarded as a modification of the mind icOXolioaiq)^ Asso- 

' Sir C. A. Elton's version, published in " Specimens of Ancient Poets," 
edited by William Peters, A. M., Christ Church, Oxford. 

"^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. xxxiv. 



454 CHRISTIANITY AND 

ciate with sensibility is thought — the faculty of general ideas — 
the o^Qog \6yoQ, or right reason, as the supreme power and the 
guiding light of humanity. This active principle is of divine 
origin, " a part or shred of the Divinity." 

This "right reason," or "common reason," is the source 
and criterion of all truth ; " for our individual natures are all 
parts of the universal nature," and, therefore, all the dictates 
of "common reason" are "identical with that right reason 
which pervades every thing, being the same with Jupiter, who 
is the regulator and chief manager of all things." 

The fundamental canon of the logic of the Stoics, therefore, 
was that " what appears to all, that is to be believed, for it is 
apprehended by the reason, which is common and Divine." 

It is needless to remark that the Stoics were compelled by 
their physiological theory to deny the proper immortality of the 
soul. Some of them seem to have supposed that it might, for 
a season, survive the death of the body, but its ultimate desti- 
nation was absorption into the Divine essence. It must re- 
turn to its original source. 

ETHICS. 

If reason be the great organizing and controlling law of the 
universe, then, to live conformable to reason is the great prac- 
tical law of life. Accordingly, the fundamental ethical maxim 
of the Stoics is, " Live conformably with nature — that is, with 
reason, or the will of the universal governor and manager of all 
things."^ Thus the chief good (Evhaifjiovia) is the conformity 
of man's actions to reason — that is, to the will of God, " for 
nothing is well done without a reference to God."^ 

It is obvious that this doctrine must lead to a social moral- 
ity and a jurisprudence the very opposite of the Epicurean. 
If we must do thaj; which is good — that is, that which is rea- 
sonable, regardless of all consequences, then it is not for the 
pleasurable or useful results which flow from it that justice 

* Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. liii. 
^ Marcus Aurelius, bk. iii. § ii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 455 

should be practised, but because of its intrinsic excellence. 
Justice is constituted good, not by the law of man, but by the 
law of God. The highest pleasure is to do right ; " this very 
thing is the virtue of the happy man, and the perfect happiness 
of life, when every thing is done according to a harmony of the 
genius of each individual" to the will of the Universal Governor 
and Manager of all things."^ Every thing which interferes 
with a purely rational existence is to be eschewed ; the pleas- 
ures and pains of the body are to be despised. To triumph 
over emotion, over suffering, over passion ; to give the fullest 
ascendency to reason ; to attain courage, moral energy, mag- 
nanimity, constancy, was to realize true manhood, nay, " to be 
godlike ; for they have something in them which is, as it were, 
a god."' 

The sublime heroism of the Stoic school is well expressed 
in the manly precept, " 'Avexov " — sustine — endure. " Endure 
the sorrows engendered by the bitter struggle between the pas- 
sions; support all the evils which fortune shall send thee — 
calumny, betrayal, poverty, exile, irons, death itself" In Epic- 
tetus and Marcus Aurelius this spirit seems to rise almost to 
the grandeur of Christian resignation. " Dare to lift up thine 
eyes to God and say, ' Use me hereafter to whatsoever thou 
pleasest. I agree, and am of the same mind with thee, indif- 
ferent to all things. Lead me whither thou pleasest. Let me 
act what part thou wilt, either of a public or a private person, 
of a rich man or a beggar.' "' " Show those qualities," says 
Marcus Aurelius, " which God hath put in thy power — sincerity, 
gravity, endurance of labor, aversion to pleasure, contentment 
with thy portion and with few things, benevolence, frankness, 
no love of superfluity, freedom from trifling, magnanimity."* 

^ Diogenes Laertius, " Lives of the Philosophers," bk. vii. ch. liii. 

^ Id, ib., bk. vii. ch. xhv. 

^ Arrian, " Diss. Epict," bk. ii. ch. xviii. 

* "I read to-day part of the 'Meditations of Marcus Antonius' [Aure- 
lius]. What a strange emperor ! And what a strange heathen ! Giving 
thanks to God for all the good things he enjoyed ! In particular for his 
good inspirations, and for twice revealing to him, in dreams, things where- 



456 CHBISTIANITY AND 

Amid the fearful moral degeneracy of imperial Rome, Stoi- 
cism became the refuge of all noble spirits. But, in spite of its 
severity, and its apparent triumph over the feelings, it brought 
•no real freedom and peace. " Stoical morality, strictly speak- 
ing, is, at bottom, only a slavish morality, excellent in Epicte- 
tus j admirable still, but useless to the world, in Marcus Aure- 
lius." Pride takes the place of real disinterestedness. It 
stands alone in haughty grandeur and solitary isolation, tainted 
with an incurable egoism. Disheartened by its metaphysical 
impotence, which robs God of all personality, and man of all 
hope of immortality ; defeated in its struggle to obtain purity 
of soul, it sinks into despair, and often terminates, as in the 
case of its two first leaders, Zeno and Cleanthes, and the two 
Romans, Cato and Seneca, in self-murder. " Thus philosophy 
is only an apprenticeship of death, and not of life j it tends to 
death by its image, apathy and afaraxy.''^^ 

by he was cured of (otherwise) incurable distempers. I make no doubt but 
this is one of the ' many ' who ' shall come from the east and the west, and 
sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,' while the * children of the king- 
dom' — nominal Christians — are *shut out.'" — Wesley's "Journal," vol. i. 
P- 353- 

^ Cousin's " Lectures on the History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 439. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 457 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE PROPEDEUTIC OFFICE OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 

"Philosophy, before the coming of the Lord, was necessary to the 
Greeks for righteousness, and it now proved useful for godliness, being in 
some part a preliminary discipline (Tzgonaideia rig ovaa) for those who reap 
the fruits of faith through demonstration. Perhaps we may say it was given 
to the Greeks with this special object ; for philosophy was to the Greeks 
what the Law was to the Jews, ' a schoolmaster to bring them to Christ' " 
— Clemens Alexandrinus. 

PHILOSOPHY, says Cousin, is the effort of reflection— ^^ 
attempt of the human mind to develop in systematic and 
logical form that which has dimly revealed itself in the sponta- 
neous thought of ages, and to account to itself in some manner 
for its native and instinctive beliefs. We may further add, it 
is the effort of the human mind to attain to truth and certitude 
on purely rational grounds, uncontrolled by traditional au- 
thorities. The sublime era of Greek philosophy was, in fact, 
an independent effort of human reason to solve the great prob- 
lems of existence, of knowledge, and of duty. It was an at- 
tempt to explain the phenomenal history of the universe, to in- 
terpret the fundamental ideas and laws of human reason, to 
comprehend the utterances of conscience, and to ascertain 
what Ultimate and Supreme Reality underlies the world of 
phenomena, of thought, and of moral feeling.^ And it is this 
which, for us, constitutes its especial value ; that it was, as far 
as possible, a result of simple reason ; or, if at any time Faith 
asserted its authority, the distinction is clearly marked. If 
this inquiry was fully, and honestly, and logically conducted, 

. * Plato sought also to attain to the Ultimate Reality underlying all aesthet- 
ic feeling — the Supreme Beauty as well as the Supreme Good. 



458 CHRISTIANITY AND 

we are entitled to presume that the results attained by this 
effort of speculative thought must harmonize with the positive 
utterances of the Divine Logos — the Eternal Reason, whose 
revelations are embalmed and transmitted to us in the Word 
of God. If the great truth that man is " the offspring of God" 
and as such ^^ the image and glory of God," which is asserted, 
alike, by Paul and the poet-philosophers of Tarsus and Mysia, 
be admitted, then we may expect that the reason of man shall 
have some correlation with the Divine reason. The mind of 
man is the chefd^oeuvre of Divine art. It is fashioned after the 
model which the Divine nature supplies. "Let us make man 
in our image after our likeness." That image consists in 
ETrlyvwaiQ — knowledge; dtKaio(7vyr) — -justice; and o(ji6tti]c, — benevo- 
lence. It is not merely the capacity to knowj to be just, and to 
be beneficent ; it is actual knowledge, justice, and benevolence. 
It supposes, first, that the fundamental ideas of the true, the 
just, and the good, are connate to the human mind ; second, 
that the native determination of the mind is towards the real- 
ization of these ideas in every mental state and every form of 
human activity ; third, that there is a constitutional sympathy 
of reason with the ideas of truth, and righteousness, and good- 
ness, as they dwell in the reason of God. And though man be 
now fallen, there is still within his heart some vestige of his 
primal nature. There is still a sense of the divine, a religious 
aptitude, " a feeling after God," and some longing to return to 
Him. There are still ideas in the reason, which, in their natu- 
ral and logical development compel him to recognize a God. 
There is within his- conscience a sense of duty, of obligation, 
and accountability to a Superior Power — " a law of the mind," 
thought opposed and antagonized by depraved passions and 
appetites — "the law in the members." There is yet a natural, 
constitutional sympathy of reason with the law of God — "it 
delights in that law," and consents " that it is good," but it is 
overborne and obstructed by passion. Man, even as unregen- 
erate, "wills to do that which is good," but "how to perform 
that which is good he finds not," and in the agony of his soul 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 459 

he exclaims, " Oh, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver 
me !"^ 

The Author of nature is also the Author of revelation. The 
Eternal Father of the Eternal Son, who is the grand medium 
of all God's direct communications to our race — the revealer 
of God, is also "the Father of the spirits of all flesh." That 
divine inbreathing which first constituted man " a living soul " 
— that " inspiration of the Almighty which giveth man under- 
standing," and still " teacheth him knowledge," proceeds from 
the same Spirit as that which inspires the prophets and seers 
of the Old Testament Church, and the Apostles and teachers 
of the new. That " true light which lighteth every man that 
cometh into the world " shone on the mind of Anaxagoras, and 
Socrates, and Plato, as well as on the mind of Abraham and 
Rahab, Cornelius and the Syro-Phoenician woman, and, in a 
higher form, and with a clearer and richer effulgence, on the 
mind of Moses, Isaiah, Paul and John. It is not to be won-' 
dered at, then, if, in the teaching of Socrates and Plato, we 
should find a striking harmony of sentiment, and even form of 
expression, with some parts of the Christian revelation. No 
short-sighted jealousy ought to impugn the honesty of our judg- 
ment, if, in the speculations of Plato, we catch glimpses of a 
world of ideas not unlike that which Christianity discloses, and 
hear words not unfamiliar to those who spake as they were 
moved by the Holy Ghost. 

If, then, there exists some correlation between Divine and 
human reason, and if the light which illuminates all minds in 
Christian and in heathen lands is the same " true light," though 
differing in degrees of brightness, it is most natural and rea- 
sonable to expect some connection and some correspondence 
between the discoveries of philosophy and the revelations of 
the Sacred Oracles. 

Although Christia.nity is confessedly something which is 
above reason and nature — something communicated from 
above, and therefore in the fullest sense supernatural and 
^ Romans, ch. vii. 



460 CHRISTIANITY AND 

superhuman, yet it must stand in relation to reason and nature, 
and to their historic development j otherwise it could not ope- 
rate on man at all. "We have no knowledge of a dynamic 
influence, spiritual or natural, without a dynamic reaction." 
Matter can only be moved by forces, and according to laws, 
as it has properties which correlate it with these forces and 
laws. And mind can not be determined from without to any 
specific form of cognition, unless it have powers of apprehen- 
sion and conception which are governed by uniform laws. If 
man is to be instructed by a verbal revelation, he must, at least, 
be capacitated for the reception of divine communication- — 
must have a power of forming super-sensuous conceptions, and 
there must be some original community of thought and idea 
between the mind that teaches and the mind that is taught. 
A revelation from an invisible God — a being " whom no man 
has ever seen or ever can see " with the eye of sense — would 
have no affinity for, and no power to affect and enlighten, a 
being who had no presentiment of an invisible Power to which 
he is in some way related. A revealed law promulgated from 
an unseen and utterly unknown Power would have no con- 
straining authority, if man had no idea of right, no sense of 
duty, no feeling of obligation to a Supreme Being. If, there- 
fore, religious instruction be not already preceded by an innate 
consciousness of God, and of obligation to God, as an opera- 
tive predisposition, there would be nothing for revelation to act 
upon. Some relation between the reason which planned the 
universe, and which has expressed its thoughts in the numerical 
relations and archetypal forms which are displayed therein, 
and the reason of man, with its ideas of form and number, pro- 
portion and harmony, is necessarily supposed in the statement 
of Paul that " the invisible things of God from the creation are 
seen." Nature to us could be no symbol of the Divine 
Thought, if there were no correlation between the reason of 
man and the reason of God. All revelation, indeed, supposes 
some community of nature, some affinities of thought, some 
correlation of ideas, between the mind communicating spiritual 



GREEK PHILOSOPEY. 461 

knowledge, and the mind to which tjie communication is made. 
In approaching man, it must traverse ground already occupied 
by man; it must employ phrases already employed, and as- 
sume forms of thought already familiar to man. It must ad- 
dress itself to some ideas, sentiments, and feelings already 
possessed by man. If religion is the great end and destina- 
tion of man, then the nature of man must be constituted for 
religion. Now religion, in its inmost nature, is a corflmunion, 
a fellowship with God. But no creature can be brought into 
this communion " save one that is constitutionally related to 
God in terms that admit of correspondence." There must be 
intelligence offered to his intelligence, sentiment to his senti- 
ment, reason to his reason, thought to his thought. There must 
be implanted in the human mind some fundamental ideas and 
determinations grounded upon this fact, that the real end and 
destination of man is for religion, so that when that higher 
sphere of life and action is presented to man, by an outward 
verbal revelation, there shall be a recognized harmony between 
the inner idea and determination, and the outer revelation. 
We can not doubt that such a relation between human nature 
and reason, and Christianity, exists. We see evidences of this 
• in the perpetual strivings of humanity to attain to some fuller 
and clearer apprehension of that Supreme Power which is con- 
sciously near to human thought, and in the historic develop- 
ment of humanity towards those higher forms of thought and 
existence which demand a revelation in order to their comple- 
tion. This original capacity, and this historical development, 
have unquestionably prepared the way for the reception of 
Christianity. 

Christianity, then, must have some connection with the rea- 
son of man, and it must also have some relation to the pro- 
gressive developments of human thought in the ages which 
preceded the advent of Christ. Christianity did not break 
suddenly upon the world as a new commencement altogether ; / 
unconnected with the past, and wanting in all points of sym- 
pathy and contact with the then present. It proceeded along' 



462 CHRISTIANITY AND 

lines of thought which had been laid through ages of prepara- 
tion ; it clothed itself in forms of speech which had been 
moulded by centuries of education, and it appropriated to it- 
self a moral and intellectual culture which had been effected 
by long periods of severest discipline. It was, in fact, the 
consummation of the whole moral and religious history of the 
world. 

A reflation of new truths, presented in entirely new forms 
of thought and speech, would have defeated its own ends, and, 
practically, would have been no revelation at all. The divine 
light, in passing through such a medium, would have been 
darkened and obscured. The lens through which the heavenly 
rays are to be transmitted must first be prepared and polished. 
The intellectual eye itself must be gradually accustomed to 
the light. iHence it is that all revelation has he.Qn progressive, 
commencing, in the infancy of our race, with images and sym- 
bols addressed to sense, and advancing, with the education of 
the race, to abstract conceptions and spiritual ideas. ' The first 
communications to the patriarchs were always accompanied by 
some external, sensible appearance ; they were often made 
through some preternatural personage in human form. Subse- 
quently, as human thought becomes assimilated to the Divine 
idea, God uses man as his organ, and communicates divine 
knowledge as an internal and spiritual gift. The theistic con- 
ception of the earliest times was therefore more or less anthro- 
pomorphic, in the prophetic age it was unquestionably more 
spiritual. The education of Hebraic, Mosaic, and prophetic 
ages had gradually developed a purer theism, and prepared 
the Jewish mind for that sublime announcement of our Lord's 
— "God is a spirit, and they that worship him must worship 
in spirit." For ages the Jews had worshipped in Samaria 
and Jerusalem, and the inevitable tendency of thought was to 
localize the divine presence ; but the gradual withdrawment 
from these localities of all visible tokens of Jehovah's pres- 
ence, prepared the way for the Saviour's explicit declaration 
that " neither in this mountain of Samaria, nor yet at Jerusalem, 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 463 

shall men worship the Father," to the exclusion of any other 
spot on earth; the real temple of the living God is now the 
heart of man. The Holiness of God was an idea too lofty for 
human thought to grasp at once. The light of God's ineffable 
purity was too bright and dazzling to burst at once on human 
eyeSa Therefore it was gradually displayed. The election of 
a chosen seed in Abraham's race to a nearer approach to God 
than the rest of pagan humanity ; the announcement of the 
Decalogue at Sinai amidst awe-inspiring wonders ; the separa- 
tion of a single tribe to the priestly office, who were dedicated 
\.o^ and purified in an especial manner for the service of the 
tabernacle; the sanctification of the High-priest by sacrifice 
and lustration before he dared to enter " the holiest place " — 
the presence-chamber of Jehovah ; and then the direct and ex- 
plicit teaching of the prophets — were all advancing steps by 
which the Jewish mind was lifted up to the clearer apprehen- 
sion of the holiness of God, the impurity of man, the distance 
of man from God, and the need of Mediation. 

The ideas of Redemptioii and Salvation — of atonement, ex- 
piation, pardon, adoption, and regeneration — are unique and 
sui-generis. Before these conceptions could be presented in 
the fullness and maturity of the Christian system, there was 
needed the culture and education of the ages of Mosaic ritual- 
ism, with its sacrificial system, its rights of purification, its 
priestly absolution, and its family of God.^ Redemption itself, 
as an economy, is a development, and has consequently, a his- 
tory — a history which had its commencement in the first Eden, 
and which shall have its consummation in the second Eden of 
a regenerated world. It was germinally infolded in the first 
promise, gradually unfolded in successive types and prophecies, 
more fully developed in the life, and sayings, and sufferings of 
the Son of God, and its ripened fruit is presented to the eye of 
faith in the closing scenic representations of the grand Apoca- 
lypse of John. " Judaism was not given as a perfect religion. 
Whatever |nay have been its superiority over surrounding forms 
^ Romans, ix. 4-6. 



464 CHRISTIANITY AND 

of worship, it was, notwithstanding, a provisional form only. 
The consciousness that it was a preparatory, and not a definite 
dispensation, is evident throughout. It points to an end be- 
yond itself, suggests a grander thought than any in itself; its 
glory precisely consists in its constant looking forward to a glo- 
rious future destined to surpass it."^ 

Thus the determinations which, through Redemption, fall to 
the lot of history, as Nitzsch justly remarks, obey the emanci- 
pating law oi gradual progress.'^ Christianity was preceded by 
ages of preparation, in which we have a gradual development 
of religious phrases and ideas, of forms of social life and intel- 
lectual culture, and of national and political institutions most 
favorable to it5 advent and its promulgation ; and " in the full- 
ness of time " — the maturity and fitness of the age — " God sent 
his own Son into the world." 

This work of preparation was not confined alone to Judaism. 
The divine plan of redemption comprehended all the race ; its 
provisions are made in view of the wants of all the race ; and 
we must therefore believe that the entire history of the race, 
previous to the coming of the Redeemer, was under a divine 
supervision, and directed towards the grand centre of our 
world's history. Greek philosophy and Grecian civilization 
must therefore have a place in the divine plan of history, and 
they must stand in an important relation to Christianity. He 
who " determined the time of each nation's existence, and fixed 
the geographical boundaries of their habitation in order that 
they may seek the Lord," can not have been unmindful of the 
Greek nation, and of its grandest age of philosophy. "The 
Father of the spirits of all flesh " could not be unconcerned in 
the moral and spiritual welfare of any of his children. He was 
as deeply interested in the Athenian as in the Hebrew. He is 
the God of the Gentile as well as the Jew. His tender mercies 
are over all his works. If the Hebrew race was selected to be 
the agent of his providence in one special field, and if the Jew* 

* Pressense, " Religions before Christ," p. 202. • 
' " System of Doctrine," p. 73. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 465 

ish theocracy was one grand instrument of preparatory disci- 
pline, it was simply because, through these, God designed to 
bless all the nations of the earth. And surely no one will pre- 
sume to say that a civilization and an intellectual culture which 
was second only to the Hebrew, and, in some of its aspects^ 
even in advance of the Hebrew, was not determined and su- 
pervised by Divine Providence, and made subservient to the 
education and development of the whole race. The grand re- 
sults of Hebrew civilization were appropriated and assimilated 
by Christianity, and remain to this day. And no one can deny 
that the same is true of Greek civilization. Through a kind 
of historic preparation the heathen world was made ready for 
Christ, as a soil is prepared to receive the seed, and some pre- 
cious fruits of knowledge, of truth, and of righteousness, even, 
were largely matured, which have been reaped, and appropri- 
ated, and vitalized by the heaven-descended life of Christianity. 
The chief points of excellence in the civilization of the 
Greeks are strikingly obvious, and may be readily presented. 
High perfection of the intellect and the imagination displaying 
itself in the various forms of art, poetry, literature, and philoso- 
phy. A wonderful freedom and activity of body and of mind, 
developed in trade, and colonization, in military achievement, 
and in subtile dialectics. A striking love of the beautiful, re- 
vealing itself in their sculpture and architecture, in the free 
music of prosaic numbers, and the graceful movement and 
measure of their poetry. A quickness of perception, a dignity 
of demeanor, a refinement of taste, a delicacy of moral sense, 
and a high degree of reverence for the divine in nature and hu- 
manity. And, in general, a ripe and all-pervading culture, 
which has made Athens a synonym for all that is greatest and 
best in the genius of man ; so that literature, in its most flour- 
ishing periods has rekindled its torch at her altars, and art has 
looked back to the age of Pericles for her purest models.^ All 

^ In Lord Brougham's celebrated letter to the father of the historian 
Macaulay in regard to the education of the latter, we read : *' If he would be 
a great orator, he must go at once to the fountain-head, and be familiar with 

30 



466 > CHBISTIANITY AND 

these enter into the very idea of Greek civilization. We can 
not resist the conviction that, by a Divine Providence, it was 
made subservient to the purpose of Redemption ; it prepared 
the way for, and contributed to, the spread of the Gospel. 

Its subserviency to this grand purpose is seen in the Greek 
tendency to trade and colonization. Their mental activity was 
accompanied by great physical freedom of movement. They 
displayed an inherent disposition to extensive emigration. 
" Without aiming at universal conquest, they developed (if we 
may use the word) a remarkable catholicity of character, and a 
singular power of adaptation to those whom they called Barba- 
rians. In this respect they were strongly contrasted with the 
Egyptians, whose immemorial civilization was confined to the 
long valley which extended from the cataracts to the mouth of 
thQ Nile. The Hellenic tribes, on the other hand, though they 
despised the foreigners, were never unwilling to visit them 
and to cultivate their acquaintance. At the earliest period at 
which history enables us to discover them, we see them mov- 
ing about in their ships on the shores and among the islands 
of their native seas ; and, three or four centuries before the 
Christian era, Asia Minor, beyond which the Persians had not 
been permitted to advance, was bordered by a fringe of Greek 
colonies ; and lower Italy, when the Roman Republic was just 
becoming conscious of its strength, had received the name of 
Greece itself. To all these places 'they carried their arts and 
literature, their philosophy, their mythology, and their amuse- 
ments. . . . They were gradually taking the place of the Phoe- 
nicians in the empire of the Mediterranean. They were, in- 
deed, less exclusively mercantile than those old discoverers. 

every one of the great orations of Demosthenes. ... I know from expe- 
rience that nothing is half so successful in these times (bad though they be) 
as what has been formed on the Greek models. I use poor illustrations in 
giving my own experience, but I do assure you that both in courts and Par- 
liament, and even to mobs, I have never made so much play (to use a very 
modern phrase) as when I was almost translating from the Greek. I com- 
posed the peroration of my speech for the Queen, in the Lords, after read- 
ing and repeating Demosthenes for three or four weeks." 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 467 

Their voyages were not so long. But their influence on gen- 
eral civilization was greater and more permanent. The ear- 
liest ideas of scientific navigation and geography are due to 
the Greeks. The later Greek travellers, Pausanias and Strabo, 
are our best sources of information on the topography of St. 
Paul's Journeys. 

" With this view of the Hellenic character before us, we are 
prepared to appreciate the vast results of Alexander's con- 
quests. He took the meshes of the net of Greek civilization 
which were lying in disorder on the edge of the Asiatic shore, 
and spread them over all the countries he traversed in his 
wonderful campaigns. The East and the West were suddenly 
brought together. Separate tribes were united under a com- 
mon government. New cities were built as the centres of 
political life. New lines of communication were opened as 
the channels of commercial activity. The new culture pene- 
trated the mountain ranges of Pisidia and Lycaonia. The 
Tigris and Euphrates became Greek rivers. The language of 
Athens was heard among the Jewish colonies of Babylonia, 
and a Grecian Babylon was built by the conqueror in Egypt, 
and called by his name. 

" The empire of Alexander was divided, but the effects of 
his campaigns and policy did not cease. The influence of 
these fresh elements of social life was rather increased by being 
brought into independent action within the sphere of distinct 
kingdoms. Our attention is particularly directed to two of the 
monarchical lines which descended from Alexander's generals 
— the Ptolemies, or the Greek kings of Egypt, and the Seleu- 
cidae, or the Greek kings of Syria. Their respective capitals, 
Alexandria and Antioch, became the metropolitan centres of 
commercial and civilized life in the East."^ Antioch was for 
ages the home of science and philosophy. Here the religious 
opinions of the East and the West were blended and mutually 
modified. Here it was discovered by the heathen mind that 
a new religion had appeared, and a new revelation had been 
* Conybeare and Howson, " Life and Epistles C)f St. Paul," vol. i. pp. 8-10. 



468 CHRISTIANITY AND 

given/ In Alexandria all nations were invited to exchange 
their commodities and, v^^ith equal freedom, their opinions. 
The representatives of all religions met here. "Beside the 
Temple of Jupiter there rose the white marble Temple of Sera- 
pis, and close at hand stood the synagogue of the Jews." The 
Alexandrian library contained all the treasures of ancient cul- 
ture, and even a copy of the Hebrew Scriptures. 

The spread of the Greek language was one of the most im- 
portant services which the cities of Antioch and Alexandria 
rendered to Christianity. The Greek tongue is intimately con- 
nected with the whole system of Christian doctrine. 

This language, which, in symmetry of structure, in flexibility 
and compass of expression, in exactness and precision, in grace 
and elegance, exceeds every other language, became the lan- 
guage of theology. Next in importance to the inspiration 
which communicates the super-human thought, must be the 
gradual development of the language in which the thought can 
clothe itself That development by which the Greek language 
became the adequate vehicle of Divine thought, the perfect 
medium of the mature revelation of truth contained in the 
Christian Scriptures, must be regarded as the subject of a 
Divine providence. Christianity waited for that development, 
and it awaited Christianity. "The Greek tongue became to 
the Christian more than it had been to the Roman or the Jew. 
The mother-tongue of Ignatius at Antioch was that in which 
Philo composed his treatises at Alexandria, and which Cicero 
spoke at Athens. It is difficult to state in a few words the im- 
portant relation which Alexandria, more especially, was des- 
tined to bear to the whole Christian Church." In that city, 
the Old Testament was translated into Greek ; there the writ- 
ings of Plato were diligently studied ; there Philo, the Plato- 
nizing Jew, had sought to blend into one system the teachings 
of the Old Testament theology and the dialectic speculations 
of Plato. Numenius learns of Philo, and Plotinus of Nume- 
nius, and the ecstasy of Plotinus is the development of Philo's 
^ Acts, xi. 26. 



gBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 469 

intuitions. A theological language by this means was developed, 
rich in the phrases of various schools, and suited to convey the 
spiritual revelation of Christian ideas to all the world. " It 
was not an accident that the New Testament was written in 
Greek, the language which can best express the highest thoughts 
and worthiest feelings of the intellect and heart, and which is 
adapted to be the instrument of education for all nations ; nor 
was it an accident that the composition of these books and the 
promulgation of the Gospels were delayed till the instruction 
of our Lord, and the writings of his Apostles could be ex- 
pressed in the dialect [of Athens and] of Alexandria."^ This 
must be ascribed to the foreordination of Him who, in the his- 
tory of nations and of civilizations, " worketh all things accord- 
ing to the counsel of his own will." 

Now it is the doctrine of the best philologists that language 
is a growth. Gradually, and by combined efforts of successive 
generations, it has been brought to the perfection which we so 
much admire in the idioms of the Bible, the poetry of Homer, 
Dante, and Shakspeare, and the prose compositions of Demos- 
thenes, Cicero, Johnson, and Macaulay. The material or root- 
element of language may have been the product of mental in- 
stinct, or perhaps the immediate gift of God by revelation ; 
but the formal element must have been the creation of thought, 
and the result of rational combination. Language is really 
the incarnation of thought ; consequently the growth of a lan- 
guage, its affluence, comprehension, and fullness must de- 
pend on the vigor and activity of thought, and the acquisition 
of general ideas. Language is thus the best index of intellec- 
tual progress, the best standard of the intellectual attainment 
of an age or nation. The language of barbaric tribes is ex- 
ceedingly simple and meagre; the paucity of general terms 
clearly indicating the absence of all attempts at classification 
and all speculative thought. Whilst the language of educated 
peoples is characterized by great fullness and affluence of 
terms, especially such as are expressive of general notions and 

^ Conybeare and Howson, " Life and Epistles of St. Paul," vol. i. p. 10. 



470 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



abstract ideas. All grammar, all philology, all scientific no- 
menclature are thus, in idiCt, psychological deposits, which register 
the progressive advancement of human thought and knowledge 
in the world of mind, as the geological strata bear testimony to 
the progressive development of the material world. "Lan- 
guage," says Trench, " is fossil poetry, fossil history," and, we 
will add, fossil philosophy. Many a single word is a concen- 
trated poem. The record of great social and national revolu- 
tions is embalmed in a single term.^ And the history of an 
age of philosophic thought is sometimes condensed and depos- 
ited in one imperishable word.^ 

If, then, language is the creation of thought, the sensible 
vesture with which it clothes itself, and becomes, as it were, in- 
carnate — if the perfection and efficiency of language depends 
on the maturity and clearness of thought, we conclude that the 
wonderful adequacy and fitness of the Greek language to be 
the vehicle of the Divine thought, the medium of the most per- 
fect revelation of God to men, can only be explained on the 
assumption that the ages of philosophic thought which, in 
Greece, preceded the advent of Christianity, were under the 
immediate supervision of a providence, and, in some degree, 
illuminated by the Spirit of God. 

Greek philosophy must therefore have fulfilled a propaedeu- 
tic office for Christianity. "As it had been intrusted to the 
Hebrews to preserve and transmit the heaven-derived element 
of the Monotheistic religion, so it was ordained that, among the 
Greeks, all seeds of human culture should unfold themselves 
in beautiful harmony, and then Christianity, taking up the op- 
position between the divine and human, was to unite both in 
one, and show how it was necessary that both should co-oper- 
ate to prepare for the appearance of itself and the unfolding of 
what it contains."^ During the period of Greek philosophy 

' See Trench "On the Study of Words," p. 20, where the word "frank" 
is given as an illustration. 

^ For example, the Koa/uoc of the Pythagoreans, the eld?f of the Platonists, 
and the arapafta of the Stoics. 

^ Neander's " Church History," vol. i. p. 4. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 471 

which preceded the coming of Christ, human reason, unfolding 
itself from beneath, had aspired after that knowledge of divine 
things which is from above. It had felt within itself the 
deep-seated consciousness of God — the sporadic revelation of 
Him "who is not far from any one of us" — the immanent 
thought of that Being " in whom we live and move and are," 
and it had striven by analysis and definition to attain a more 
distinct and logical apprehension. The heart of man had been 
stirred with " the feeling after God " — the longing for a clearer 
sense of the divine, and had struggled to attain, by abstraction 
or by ecstasy, a more immediate communion with God. Man 
had been conscious of an imperative obligation to conform to 
the will of the great Supreme, and he sought to interpret more 
clearly the utterances of conscience as to what duty was. He 
had felt the sense of sin and guilt, and had endeavored to ap- 
pease his conscience by expiatory offerings, and to deliver him- 
self from the power of sin by intellectual culture and moral 
discipline. And surely no one, at all familiar with the history 
of that interesting epoch in the development of humanity, will 
have the hardihood to assert that no steps were taken in the 
right direction, and no progress made towards the distant goal 
of human desire and hope. The language, the philosophy, the 
ideals of moral beauty and excellence, the noble lives and No- 
bler utterances of the men who stand forth in history as the 
representatives of Greek civilization, all attest that their noble 
aspiration and effort did not end in ignominious failure and 
utter defeat. It is true they fell greatly beneath the realization 
of even their own moral ideals, and they became painfully con- 
scious of their moral weakness, as men do even in Christian 
times. They learned that, neither by intellectual abstraction, 
nor by ecstasy of feeling, could they lift themselves to a living, 
conscious fellowship with God. The sense of guilt was unre- 
lieved by expiations, penances, and prayers. And whilst some 
cultivated a proud indifference, a Stoical apathy, and others 
sank down to Epicurean ease and pleasure, there was a noble 
few who longed and hoped with increasing ardor for a living 



472 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Redeemer, a personal Mediator, who should " stand between 
God and man and lay his hand on both." Christ became in 
some dim consciousness "the Desire of Nations," and the 
Moral Law became even to the Greek as well as the Jew " a 
school-master to lead them to Him." 

The arrival of Paul at Athens, in the close of this brilliant 
period of Greek philosophy, now assumes an aspect of deeper 
interest and profounder significance. It was a grand climac- 
teric in the life of humanity — an epoch in the moral and re- 
ligious history of the world. It marked the consummation of 
a periodic dispensation, and it opened a new era in that won- 
derful progression through which an overruling Providence is 
carrying the human race. As the coming of the Son of God 
to Judea in the ripeness of events — " the fullness of time " — 
was the consummation of the Jewish dispensation, and the 
event for which the Jewish age had been a preparatory disci- 
pline, so the coming of a Christian teacher to Athens, in the 
person of " the Apostle of the Gentiles," was the terminus ad 
quern towards which all the phases in the past history of philo- 
sojphic thought had looked, and for which they had prepared. 
Christianity was brought to Athens — brought into contact with 
Grecian philosophy at the moment of its exhaustion — at the 
moment when, after ages of unwearied effort, it had become 
conscious of its weakness, and its comparative failure, and had 
abandoned many questions in despair. Greek philosophy had 
therefore its place in the plan of Divine Providence. It had 
a mission to the world ; that mission was now fulfilled. If it 
had laid any foundation in the Athenian mind on which the 
Christian system could plant its higher truths — if it had raised 
up into the clearer light of consciousness any of those ideas 
imbedded in the human reason which are germane to Christian 
truth — if it had revealed more fully the wants and instincts of 
the human heart, or if it had attained the least knowledge of 
eternal truth and immutable right, upon this Christianity placed 
its imprimatur. And at those points where human reason had 
been made conscious of its own inefficiency, and compelled to 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 473 

own its weakness and its failure, Christianity shed an effulgent 
and convincing light. 

Therefore the preparatory office of Greek religion and Greek 
philosophy is fully recognized by Paul in his address to the 
Athenians. He begins by saying that the observations he had 
made enabled him to bear witness that the Athenians were in- 
deed, in every respect, " a God-fearing people ;" — that the God 
whom they knew so imperfectly as to designate Him " the Un- 
known," but whom " they worshipped," was the God he wor- 
shipped, and would now more fully declare to them. He as- 
sures them that their past histoiy, and their present geographi- 
cal position, had been the object of Divine foreknowledge and 
determination. " He hath determined beforehand the times of 
each nation's existence, and fixed the geographical boundaries 
of their habitation," all with this specific design, that they might 
" seek after," " feel after," and " find the Lord," who had never 
been far from any one of them. He admits that their poet-phi- 
losophers had risen to a lofty apprehension of " the Fatherhood 
of God," for they had taught that "we are all his offspring;" and 
he seems to have felt that in asserting the common brotherhood 
of our race, he would strike a chord of sympathy in the loftiest 
school of Gentile philosophy. He thus " recognized the Spirit 
of God brooding over the face of heathenism, and fructifying 
the spiritual element in the heart even of the natural man. He 
feels that in these human principles there were some faint ad- 
umbrations of the divine, and he looked for their firmer delin- 
eation to the figure of that gracious Master, higher and holier 
than man, whom he contemplated in his own imagination, and 
whom he was about to present to them."^ 

This function of ancient philosophy is distinctly recognized 
by many of the greatest of the Fathers, as Justin, Clement, 
Origen, Augustine, and Theodoret. Justin Martyr believed 
that a ray of the Divine Logos shone on the mind of the hea- 
then, and that the human soul instinctively turned towards God 
as the plant turns towards the sun. " Every race of men par- 
^ Merivale's "Conversion of the Roman Empire," p. 78. 



474 CHEISTIANITY AKD 

ticipated in the Word. And they who lived with the Word 
were Christians, even if they were held to be godless j as, for 
example, among the Greeks, Socrates and Heraclitus, and those 
like them."^ Clement taught that "philosophy, before the com- 
ing of the Lord, was necessary to the Greeks for righteousness ; 
and now it proved useful for godliness, being a sort of prelimi- 
inary discipline for those who reap the fruits of faith through 

demonstration Perhaps we may say that it was given to 

the Greeks with this special object, for it brought the Greek 
nation to Christ as the Law brought the Hebrews."^ "Philoso- 
phy was given as a peculiar testament to the Greeks, as forming 
the basis of the Christian philosophy."^ Referring to the words 
of Paul, Origen says, the truths which philosophers taught were 
from God, for " God manifested these to them, and all things 
that have been nobly said."* And Augustine, whilst depreca- 
ting the extravagant claims made for the great Gentile teach- 
ers, allows " that some of them made great discoveries, so far 
as they received help from heaven ; whilst they erred as far as 
they were hindered by human frailty."^ They had, as he else- 
where observes, " a distant vision of the truth, and learnt, from 
the teaching of nature, what prophets learnt from the spirit."' 
In addressing the Greeks, Theodoret says, "Obey your own 
philosophers ; let them be your initiators ; for they announced 
beforehand our doctrines." He held that "in the depths of hu- 
man nature there are characters inscribed by the hand of God." 
And that "if the race of Abraham received the divine law, and 
the gift of prophecy, the God of the universe led other nations 
to piety by natural revelation, and the spectacle of nature."^ 

In attempting to account for this partial harmony between 
Philosophy and Revelation, we find the Patristic writers adopt- 
ing different theories. They are generally agreed in maintain- 

^ " First Apology," ch. xlvi. ^ " Stromata," bk. i. ch. v. 

^ " Stromata," bk. vi. ch. viii. ^ " Contra Celsum," bk. vL ch. iii. 

^ " De Civitate Dei," bk. ii. ch. vii. ^ Sermon Ixviii. 3. 

' See Smith's " Bible Dictionary," article " Philosophy ;" Pressense, " Re- 
ligions before Christ," p. 11 ; Butler's "Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," 
vol. ii. pp. 28-40. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 475 

ing some original connection, but they differ as to its immediate 
source. Some of them maintained that the ancient philoso- 
phers derived their purest light from the fountain of Divine 
Revelation. The doctrines of the Old Testament Scriptures 
were traditionally diffused throughout the West before the rise 
of philosophic speculation. If the theistic conceptions of 
Plato are superior to those of Homer it is accounted for by his 
(hypothetical) tour of inquiry among the Hebrew nation, as 
well as his Eg}'^ptian investigations. Others maintained that 
the similarity of views on the character of the Supreme Being 
and the ultimate destination of humanity which is found in the 
writings of Plato and the teachings of the Bible is the conse- 
quence of immediate inspiration. Origen, Jerome, Eusebius, 
Clement, do not hesitate to affirm that Christ himself revealed 
his own high prerogatives to the gifted Grecian. From this 
hypothesis, however, the facts of the case compel them to make 
some abatements. In the mid-current of this divine revelation 
are found many acknowledged errors, which it is impossible to 
ascribe to the celestial illuminator. Plato, then, was partially 
inspired, and clouded the heavenly beam with the remaining 
grossnesses of the natural sense.' Whilst a third, and more 
reasonable, hypothesis was maintained by others. They re- 
garded man as "the offspring and image of the Deity," and 
maintained there must be a correlation of the human and divine 
reason, and, consequently, of all discovered truth to God. 
Therefore they expected to find some traces of connection and 
correspondence between Divine and human thought, and some 
kindred ideas in Philosophy and Revelation. "Ideas," says 
St. Augustine, " are the primordial forms, as it were, the immu- 
table reason of things ; they are not created, they are eternal, 
and always the same : they are contained in the Divine intelli- 
gence j and without being subject to birth and death, they are 
types according to which is formed every thing that is born and 
dies." The copies of these archetypes are seen in nature, and 
are participated in by the reason of man ; and there may there- 
^ Butler's " Lectures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 41. 



476 CHRISTIANITY AND 

fore be some community of idea between man and God, and 
some relation between Philosophy and Christianity. 

The various attempts which have been made to trace the 
elevated theism and morality of Socrates and Plato to Jewish 
sources have signally failed. Justin Martyr and TertuUian 
claim that the ancient philosophers " borrowed from the Jewish 
prophets." Pythagoras and Plato are supposed to have trav- 
elled in the East in quest of knowledge.^ The latter is imag- 
ined to have had access to an existing Greek version of the 
Old Testament in Egypt, and a strange oversight in chronology 
brings him into personal intercourse with the prophet Jeremiah. 
A sober and enlightened criticism is compelled to pronounce 
all these statements as mere exaggerations of later times.** 
They are obviously mere suppositions by which over-zealous 
Christians sought to maintain the supremacy and authority of 
Scripture. The travels of Pythagoras are altogether mythical, 
the mere invention of Alexandrian writers, who believed that 
all wisdom flowed from the East.^ That Plato visited Egypt 
at all, rests on the single authority of Strabo, who lived at least 
four centuries after Plato ; there is no trace in his own works 
of Egyptian research. His pretended travels in Phoenicia, 
where he gained from the Jews a knowledge of the true God, 
are more unreHable still. Plato lived in the fourth century 
before Christ (born B.C. 430), and there is no good evidence 
of the existence of a Greek version of the Old Testament be- 
fore that of "the Seventy" (Septuagint), made by order of 
Ptolemy Philadelphus, B.C. 270. Jeremiah, the prophet of 
Israel, lived two centuries before Plato ; consequently any 
personal intercourse between the two was simply impossible. 
Greek philosophy was unquestionably a development of Rea- 
son alone.* 

^ Mr. Watson adopts this hypothesis to account for the theistic opinions 
of the ancient philosophers of Greece. See " Institutes of Theology," vol. i. 
pp. 26-34. 

' Ritter's " History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 147. 

^ Max Miiller, " Science of Language," p. 94. 

* See on this subject, Ritter's *• History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. 



OBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 477 

Some of the ablest Christian scholars and divines of modern 
times, as Cudworth, Neander, Trench, Pressense, Merivale, 
Schaff, after the most careful and conscientious investigation, 
have come to this conclusion, that Greek philosophy fulfilled 
a preparatory mission for Christianity. The general conclu- 
sions they reached are forcibly presented in the words of Pres- 
sense : 

" It would be difficult to overstate the importance of Greek 
philosophy when viewed as a preparation to Christianity. Dis- 
interested pursuit of truth is always a great and noble task. 
The imperishable want of the human mind to go back to first 
principles, suffices to prove that this principle is divine. We 
may abuse speculation ; we may turn it into one of the most 
powerful dissolvents of moral truths; and the defenders of 
positive creeds, alarmed by the attitude too often assumed by 
speculation in the presence of religion, have condemned it as 
mischievous in itself, confounding in their unjust prejudice its 
use and its abuse. But, for all serious thinkers, philosophy is 
one of the highest titles of nobility that humanity possesses : 
and when we consider its mission previous to Christianity, we 
feel convinced that it had its place in the Divine plan. It was 
not religion in itself that philosophy, through its noblest repre- 
sentatives, combated, but polytheism. It dethroned the false 
gods. Adopting what was best in paganism, philosophy em- 
ployed it as an instrument to destroy paganism, and thus clear 
the way for definite religion. Above all, it effectually contrib- 
uted to purify the idea of Divinity, though this purification was 
but an approximation. If at times it caught glimpses of the 
highest spiritualism, yet it was unable to protect itself against 
the return and reaction of Oriental dualism. In spite of this 
imperfection, which in its way served the cause of Christianity 
by demonstrating the necessity of revelation, men like Socrates 
and Plato fulfilled amongst their people a really sublime mis- 

pp. 147, 148; Encyclopaedia Britannica, article "Plato," vol. xvii. p. 787; 
Smith's "Bible Dictionary," article "Philosophy;" and Thompson's "Laws 
of Thought," p. 326. 



478 CHRISTIANITY AND 

sion. They were to the heathen world the great prophets of 
the human conscience, which woke up at their call. And the 
awakening of the moral sense was at once the glory and ruin 
of philosophy; for conscience, once aroused, could only be 
satisfied by One greater than they, and must necessarily reject 
all systems which proved themselves insufficient to realize the 
moral idea they had evoked. 

"But to perish thus, and for such a cause, is a high honor 
to a philosophy. It was this made the philosophy of Greece, 
like the Hebrew laws, though in an inferior sense, a school- 
master that led to Jesus Christ, according to the expression of 
Clement of Alexandria. Viewed in this light, it was a true 
gift of God, and had, too, the shadow of good things to come, 
awakening the presentiment and desire of them, though it 
could not communicate them. Nor can we conceive a better 
way to prepare for the advent of Him who was to be ' the De- 
sire of Nations ' before becoming their Saviour."^ 

In previous chapters we have endeavored to sketch the 
history of the development of metaphysical thought, of moral 
feeling and idea, and of religious sentiment and want, which 
characterized Grecian civilization. In now offering a brief 
resume of the history of that development, with the design of 
more fully exhibiting the preparatory office it fulfilled for 
Christianity, we shall assume that the mind of the reader has 
already been furnished and disciplined by preparatory princi- 
ples. He can scarce have failed to recognize that this devel- 
opment obeyed a general law, however modified by exterior 
and geographical conditions j the same law, in fact, which 
governs the development of all individual finite minds, and 
which law may be formulated thus : — All finite mind develops 
itself, first, in instinctive determinations and spontaneous faiths ; 
then in rising doubt, and earnest questioning, and ill-directed in- 
quiry ; and, finally, in systematic philosophic thought, and rational 
belief. These different stages succeed each other in the indi- 
vidual mind. There is, first, the simplicity and trust of child- 
^ "Religions before Christ," pp. loi, 102. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 479 

hood ; secondly, the undirected and unsettled force of youth ; 
and, thirdly, the wisdom of mature age. And these different 
stages have also succeeded each other in the universal mind of 
humanity. There has been, ist. The e^-a of spontaneous beliefs 
— of popular and semi-conscious theism, moraUty, and religion. 
2d. The transitiojial age — the age of doubt, of inquiry, and of 
ill-directed mental effort, ending in fruitless sophism, or in 
skepticism. 3d. The philosophic or conscious age — the age of 
reflective consciousness, in which, by the analysis of thought, 
the first principles of knowledge are attained, the necessary 
laws of thought are discovered, and man arrives at positive 
convictions, and rational beliefs. ■ In the history of Grecian 
civilization, the first is the Homeric age ; the second is the 
pre-Socratic age, ending with the Sophists; and the third is 
the grand Socratic period. History is thus the development 
of the fundamental elements of humanity, according to an es- 
tablished law, and under conditions which are ordained and 
supervised by the providence of God. " The unity of civiliza- 
tion is in the unity of human nature j its varieties, in the vari- 
ety of the elements of humanity," which elements have been 
successively developed in the course of history. All that is 
fundamental in human nature passes into the movem^ent of 
civilization. " I say all that is fundamental ; for it is the ex- 
cellency of history to take out, and throw away all that is not 
necessary and essential. That which is individual shines for 
a day, and is extinguished forever, or stops at biography." 
Nothing endures, except that which is fundamental and true — 
that which is vital, and organizes itself, develops itself, and 
arrives at an historical existence. " Therefore as human nature 
is the matter and basis of history, history is, so to speak, the 
judge of human nature, and historical analysis is the counter- 
proof of psychological analysis."^ 

Nature, individual mind, and collective humanity, all obey 
the law of progressive development; otherwise there could be 
no history, fo^^ history is only of that which has movement and 
^ Cousin's "Lectures on the History of Philosophy," vol. i. p. 31. 



480 CHRISTIANITY AND 

• 
progress. Now, all progress is from the indefinite to the defi- 
nite, from the inorganic to the organic and vital, from the in- 
stinctive to the rational, from a dim, nebulous self-feeling to a 
high reflective consciousness, from sensuous images to abstract 
conceptions and spiritual ideas. This progressive develop- 
ment of nature and humanity has not been a series of crea- 
tions de novo, without any relation, in matter or form, to that 
which preceded. All of the present was contained in embry- 
onic infoldment in the past, and the past has contributed its 
results to the present. ^ The present, both in nature, and his- 
tory, and civilization, is, so to speak, the aggregate and sum- 
total of the past. As the natural history of the earth may now 
be read in the successive strata and deposits which form its 
crust, so the history of humanity may be read in the successive 
deposits of thought and language, of philosophy and art, which 
register its gradual progression. As the paleontological re- 
mains imbedded in the rocks present a succession of organic 
types which gradually improve in form and function, from the 
first sea-weed to the palm-tree, and from the protozoa to the 
highest vertebrate, so the history of ancient philosophy presents 
a gradual progress in metaphysical, ethical, and theistic con- 
ceptions, from the unreflective consciousness of the Homeric 
age, to the high reflective consciousness of the Platonic period. 
And as all the successive forms of life in pre-Adamic ages 
were a preparation for and a prophecy of the coming of man, 
so the advancing forms of philosophic thought, during the 
grand ages of Grecian civilization, were a preparation and a 
prophecy of the coming of the Son of God. 

We shall now endeavor to trace this process of gradual 
preparation for Christianity in the Greek mind — 

' The writer would not be understood as favoring the idea that this de- 
velopment is simply the result of " natural law." The connection between 
the past and the present is not a material, but a metital connection. It is 
the bond of Creative Thought and Will giving to organic forces a foreseen 
direction towards the working out of a grand plan. See Agassiz, " Contri- 
butions to Natural History," vol. i. pp. 9, 10; Duke of Argyll, "Reign of 
Law," ch. v. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 48 1 

(i.) In t/ie Jie/d o/Theistic conceptions. 
(ii.) In the department <?/" Ethical ideas and principles. 
(iii.) In the region ^Religious sentiment. 

In the field of theistic conception the propaedeutic office of 
Grecian philosophy is seen — 

I. In the release of the popular mind from Polytheistic notions, 
and the purifying and spiritualizing of the Theistic idea. 

The idea of a Supreme Power, a living Personality, energiz- 
ing in nature, and presiding over the affairs of men, is not the 
product of philosophy. It is the immanent, spontaneous 
thought of humanity. It has, therefore, existed in all ages, 
and revealed itself in all minds, even when it has not been 
presented to the understanding as a definite conception, and 
expressed by human language in a logical form. It is the 
thought which instinctively arises in the opening reason of 
childhood, as the dim and shadowy consciousness of a living 
mind behind all the movement and change of the universe. 
Then comes the period of doubt, of anxious questioning, and 
independent inquiry. The youth seeks to account to himself 
for this peculiar sentiment. He turns his earnest gaze towards 
nature, and through this living vesture of the infinite he seeks 
to catch some glimpses of the living Soul. In some fact ap- 
preciable to sense, in some phenomenon he can see, or hear, or 
touch, he would fain grasp the cause and reason of all that is. 
But in this field of inquiry and by this method he finds only a 
" receding God," who falls back as he approaches, and is ever 
still beyond ; and he sinks down in exhaustion and feebleness, 
the victim of doubt, perhaps despair. Still the sentiment of 
the Divine remains, a living force, in the centre of his moral 
being. He turns his scrutinizing gaze within, and by self-re- 
flection seeks for some rational ground for his instinctive faith. 
There he finds some convictions he can not doubt, some ideas 
he can not call in question, some thoughts he is compelled to 
think, some necessary and universal principles which in their 
natural and logical development ally him to an unseen world, 

31 



482 CHBISTIANITY AND 

• 
and correlate and bind him fast to an invisible, but real God. 

The more his mind is disciplined by abstract thought, the 

clearer do these necessary and universal principles become, and 

the purer and more spiritual his ideas of God. God is now for 

him the First Principle of all principles, the First Truth of all 

truths j the Eternal Reason, the Immutable Righteousness, the 

Supreme Good. The normal and healthy development of 

reason, the maturity of thought, conduct to the recognition of 

the true God. 

And so it has been in the universal consciousness of our 
race as revealed in history. There was first a period of spon- 
taneous and unreflective Theism, in which man felt the con- 
sciousness of God, but could not or did not attempt a rational 
explanation of his instinctive faith. He saw God in clouds 
and heard Him in the wind. His smile nourished the corn, 
and cheered the vine. The lightnings were the flashes of his 
vengeful ire, and the thunder was his angry voice. But the 
unity of God was feebly grasped, the rays of the Divinity 
seemed divided and scattered amidst the separate manifesta- 
tions of power, and wisdom, and goodness, and retribution, 
which nature presented. Then plastic art, to aid and impress 
the imagination, created its symbols of these separate powers 
and principles, chiefly in human form, and gods were multi- 
plied. But all this polytheism still rested on a dim monotheis- 
tic background, and all the gods were subordinated to Zeus — 
"the Father of gods and men." Humanity had still the sense 
of the dependence of all finite being on one great fountain- 
head of Intelligence and Power, and all the " generated gods " 
were the subjects and ministers of that One Supreme. This 
was the childhood of humanity so vividly represented in Ho- 
meric poetry. 

Then came a period of incipient reflection, and speculative 
thought, in which the attention of man is drawn outward to the 
study of nature, of which he can yet only recognize himself as 
an integral part. He searches for some ap^n — some first prin- 
ciple, appreciable to sense, which in in its evolution shall fur- 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 483 

nish an explanation of the problem of existence. He tries the 
hypothesis of ^^ water" then of "«z>," then of "^r^?," as the 
primal element, which either is itself, or in some way infolds 
wdthin itself an informing Soul, and out of which, by vital 
transformation, all things else are produced. But here he 
failed to find an adequate explanation ; his reason was not sat- 
isfied. Then he sought his first principle in ^^ numbers" as 
symbols, and, in some sense, as the embodiment of the ra- 
tional conceptions of order, proportion, and harmony,— God is 
the original ^xovclq — unity — One ; — or else he sought it in pure- 
ly abstract ''ideas" as unity, infinity, identity, and all things 
are the evolution of an eternal thought, one and identical, 
which is God. And here again he fails. Then he supposes 
an unlimited fxlyfia — a chaotic mixture of elements existing 
from eternity, which was separated, combined, and organized 
by the energy of a Supreme Mind, the vovq of Anaxagoras. 
But he holds not firmly to this great principle ; " he recurs 
again to air, and ether, and water, as causis for the ordering of 
all things."^ And after repeated attempts and failures, he is 
disappointed in his inquiry, and falls a prey to doubt and skep- 
ticism. This was the early youth of our humanity, the period 
that opens with Thales and ends with the Sophists. 

The problem of existence still waits for and demands a so- 
lution. The heart of man, also, still cries out for the living 
God. The Socratic maxim, " know thyself," introverts the men- 
tal gaze, and self-reflection now becomes the method of phi- 
losophy. The Platonic analysis of thought reveals elements 
of knowledge which are not derived from the outer world. 
There are universal and necessary principles revealed in con- 
sciousness which, in their natural and logical development, tran- 
scend consciousness, and furnish the cognition of a world of 
Real Being, beyond the world of sense. There are absolute 
truths which bridge the chasm between the seen and the un- 
seen, the fleeting and the permanent, the finite and the infinite, 
the temporal and the eternal. There are necessary laws of 
^ Thus Socrates complains of Anaxagoras. See " Phasdo," § 108. 



484 CHRISTIANITY AND 

thought which are also found to be laws of things, and which 
correlate man to a living, personal, righteous Lord and Law- 
giver. From absolute ideas Plato ascends to an absolute Be- 
ing, the author of all finite existence. From absolute truths to 
an absolute Reason, the foundation and essence of all truth. 
From the principle of immutable right to an absolutely righteous 
Being. From the necessary idea of the good to a being of ab- 
solute Goodness — that is, to God. This is the maturity of hu- 
manity, the ripening manhood of our race which was attained 
in the Socratic age. 

The inevitable tendency of this effort of speculative thought, 
spread over ages, and of the intellectual culture which neces- 
sarily resulted, was to undermine the old polytheistic religion, 
and to purify and elevate the theistic conception. The school 
of Elea rejected the gross anthropomorphism of the Homeric 
theology. Xenophanes, the founder of the school, was a be- 
liever in 

** One God, of all beings divine and human the greatest, 
Neither in body alike unto mortals, neither in ideas." 

And he repels with indignation the anthropomorphic represen- 
tations of the Deity. 

"But men foolishly think that gods are born as men are. 
And have, too, a dress like their own, and their voice, and their figure : 
But if oxen and lions had hands like ours, and fingers, 
Then would horses like unto horses, and oxen to oxen, 
Paint and fashion their god-forms, and give to them bodies 
Of like shape to their own, as they themselves too are fashioned."* 

Empedocles also wages uncompromising war against all repre- 
sentations of the Deity in human form — 

" For neither with head adjusted to limbs, like the human, 
Nor yet with two branches down from the shoulders outstretching, 

Neither with feet, nor swift-moving limbs, 

He is, wholly and perfectly, mind, ineffable, holy. 

With rapid and swift-glancing thought pervading the world."" 

When speaking of the mythology of the older Greeks, Socrates 
maintains a becoming prudence ; he is evidently desirous to 

^ Ritter's "History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. pp. 431, 432. 
^ Ibid., vol. i. pp. 495, 496. 



GREEK PHILOSOPET. 485 

avoid every thing which would tend to loosen the popular rever- 
ence for divine things/ But he was opposed to all anthropo- 
morphic conceptions of the Deity. His fundamental position 
was that the Deity is the Supreme Reason, which is to be hon- 
ored by men as the source of all existence and the end of all 
human endeavor. Notwithstanding his recognition of a num- 
ber of subordinate divinities, he held that the Divine is one, 
because Reason is one. He taught that the Supreme Being is 
the immaterial, infinite Governor of all f that the world bears 
the stamp of his intelligence, and attests it by irrefragable evi- 
dence f and that he is the author and vindicator of all moral 
laws.* So that, in reality, he did more to overthrow polytheism 
than any of his predecessors, and on that account was doomed 
to death. 

^ It was, however, the matured dialectic of Plato which gave 
the death-blow to polytheism> "Plato, the poet-philosopher, 
sacrificed Homer himself to monotheism. We may measure 
the energy of his conviction by the greatness of the sacrifice. 
He could not pardon the syren whose songs had fascinated 
Greece, the fresh brilliant poetry that had inspired its religion. 
He crowned it with flowers, but banished it, because it had 
lowered the religious ideal of conscience." He was sensible 
of the beauty of the Homeric fables, but he was also keenly 
alive to their religious falsehood, and therefore he excluded the 
poets from his ideal republic. In the education of youth, he 
would forbid parents and teachers repeating " the stories which 
Hesiod and Homer and the other poets told us." And after 
instancing a number of these stories "which deserve the 
gravest condemnation," he enjoins that God must be repre- 
sented as he is in reality. " God," says he, " is, beyond all else, 
good in reality, and therefore so to be represented ;" " he can 
not do evil, or be the cause of evil ;" " he is of simple essence, 

^ Xenophon, " Memorabilia," bk. i. ch. iii. § 3. 

2 Id, ib., bk. i. ch. iv. §§ 17, 18. ^ Id, ib., bk. i. ch. i. § 19. 

* Ritter's " History of Ancient Philosophy," vol. ii. p. 63 ; Butler's " Lec- 
tures on Ancient Philosophy," vol. i. p. 359. 



486 CHRISTIANITY AND 

and can not change, or be the subject of change;" "there is 
no imperfection in the beauty or goodness of God ;" " he is a 
God of truth, and can not lie ;" " he is a being of perfect sim- 
pHcity and truth in deed and word."^ The reader can not fail 
to recognize the close resemblance between the language of 
Plato and the language of inspiration. 

The theistic conception, in Plato, reaches the highest purity 
and spirituality. God is "the Supreme Mind,'^ "incorporeal," 
" unchangeable," " infinite," " absolutely perfect," " essentially 
good," " unoriginated and eternal." He is "the Father and 
Maker of the world," " the efficient Cause of all things," " the 
Monarch and Ruler of the w^orld," " the Sovereign Mind that 
orders all things," and "pervades all things." He is "the 
sole principle of all things," " the beginning of all truth," " the 
fountain of all law and justice," "the source of all order and 
beauty;" in short, He is "the beginning, middle, and end of 
all things."'^ 

Aristotle continued the work of undermining polytheism. 
He defines God as "the Eternal Reason" — the Supreme 
Mind. " He is the immovable cause of all movement in the 
universe, the all-perfect principle. This principle or essence 
perv^ades all things. It eternally possesses perfect happiness, 
and its happiness consists in energy. This primeval mover is 
immaterial, for its essence is energy — it is pure thought, thought 
thinking itself— the thought of thought."^ Polytheism is thus 
swept away from the higher regions of the intelligence. " For 
several to command," says he, " is not good, there should be 
but one chief A tradition, handed down from the remotest 
antiquity, and transmitted under the veil of fable, says that all 
the stars are ^ods, and that the Divinity embraces the whole of 
nature. And round this idea other mythical statements have 
been agglomerated, with a view to influencing the vulgar, and 
for political and moral expediency ; as for instance, they feigned 

'" Republic," bk. ii. §§ 18-21. 

^ See ante, ch. xi. pp. 377, 378, where the references to Plato's writings 
are given. ^ " Metaphysics," bk. xii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 487 

that these gods have human shape, and are Hke certain of the 
animals ; and other stories of the kind are added on. Now, if 
any one will separate from all this the first point alone, namely, 
that they thought the first and deepest grounds of existence to 
be Divine, he may consider it a divine utterance."^ The pop- 
ular polytheism, then, was but a perverted fragment of a deeper 
and purer " Theology." This passage is a sort of obituary of 
polytheism. The ancient glory of paganism had passed away. 
Philosophy had exploded the old theology. Man had learned 
enough to make him renounce the ancient religion, but not 
enough to found a new faith that could satisfy both the intellect 
and the heart. "Wherefore we are not to be surprised that 
the grand philosophic period should be followed by one of in- 
credulity and moral collapse, inaugurating the long and univer- 
sal decadence which was, perhaps, as necessary to the work of 
preparation, as was the period of religious and philosophic de- 
velopment." 

The preparatory office of Greek philosophy in the region of 
speculative thought is seen — 

2. In the development of the Theistic argument i7i a logical form. 
— Every form of the theistic proof which is now employed by 
writers on natural theology to demonstrate the being of God 
was apprehended, and logically presented, by one or other of 
the ancient philosophers, excepting, perhaps, the " moral argu- 
ment " drawn from the facts of conscience. 

(i.) The Etiological proof or the argument based upon 
the principle of causality, which may be presented in the fol- 
lowing form : 

All genesis or becoming supposes a permanent and un- 
caused Being, adequate to the production of all phenomena. 
The sensible universe is a perpetual genesis, a succession 
of appearances: it is "always becoming, and never really is." 
Therefore, it must have its cause and origin in a perma- 
nent and unoriginated Being, adequate to its production. 
^ " Metaphysics," bk. xi. ch. viii. § 19. 



488 CHBISTIANITY AND 

The major premise of this syllogism is a fundamental prin- 
ciple of reason — a self-evident truth, an axiom of common 
sense, and as such has been recognized from the very dawn of 
philosophy. 'A^vvarov yiveaQai tl ek ixrjdEPog 7rpov7ra.p')(ovTOQ — £x 
nihilo nihil — Nothing which once was not, could ever of itself come 
into being. Nothing can be made or produced without an effi- 
cient cause, is the oldest maxim of philosophy. It is true that 
this maxim was abusively employed by Democritus and Epi- 
curus to disprove a Divine creation of any thing out of noth- 
ing, yet the great body of ancient philosophers, as Pythago- 
ras, Xenophanes, Parmenides, Zeno, Anaxagoras, Empedocles, 
Plato, and Aristotle, regarded it as the announcement of an 
universal conviction, that nothing can be produced without an 
efficient cause ; — order can not be generated out of chaos, life 
out of dead matter, consciousness out of unconsciousness, rea- 
son out of unreason. A first principle of life, of order, of rea- 
son, must have existed anterior to all manifestions of order, of 
life, of intelligence, in the visible universe. It was clearly in 
this sense that Cicero understood this great maxim of the an- 
cient philosophers of Greece. With him ^'- De nihilo nihil fit ''^ 
is equivalent to '■^ Nihil sine causa " — nothing exists without a 
cause. This is unquestionably the form in which that funda- 
mental law of thought is stated by Plato : " Whatever is gener- 
ated is necessarily generated from a certain cause, for it is 
wholly impossible that any thing should be generated without 
a cause."^ And the efficient cause is defined as "a power 
whereby that which did not previously exist was afterwards 
made to be."^ It is scarcely needful to remark that Aristotle, 
the scholar of Plato, frequently lays it down as a postulate of 
reason, " that we admit nothing without a cause. "^ By an irre- 
sistible law of thought, ^^ all phmomena presejit themselves to us 
as the expression of power, and refer us to a causal ground 
whence they issue." 

The major premise of this syllogism is a fact of observation. 

* " Timaeus," ch. ix.; also " Philebus," § 45. ^ " Sophist," § 109. 

^ "Post. Analytic," bk. ii. ch. xvi.; " Metaphysics," bk. i. ch. i. §3. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 489 

To the eye of sense and sensible observation, to scientific in- 
duction even in its highest generalizations, the visible universe 
presents nothing but a history and aggregation of phenomena 
— a succession of appearances or effects having more or less 
resemblance. It is a ceaseless flow and change, " a generation 
and corruption," " a becoming, but never really z>/" it is never 
in two successive moments the same.^ All our cognitions of 
sameness, uniformity, causal connection, permanent Being, real 
Power, are purely rational conceptions given in thought, sup- 
plied by the spontaneous intuition of reason as the correlative 
prefix to the phenomena observed,^ 

Therefore the ancient philosophers concluded justly, there 
must be something ayivvr\Tov — something which was never 
generated, something avTocpvijg and avdvTroararov — self-origina- 
ted and self-existing, something ravrov and alojviov — imnmta- 
ble and eternal, the object of rational apperception — which is 
the real ground and efficient cause of all that appears. 

(2.) The CosMOLOGiCAL proof, or the argument based upon 
the principle of order, and thus presented : 

Order, proportion, harmony, are the product and expres- 
sion of Mind. 

The created universe reveals order, proportion, and har- 
mony. 

Therefore, the created universe is the product of Mind. 
The fundamental law of thought which underlies this mode 
of proof was clearly recognized by Pythagoras. All harmony 
and proportion and symmetry is the result of unity evolving 
itself in and pervading multiplicity. Mind or reason is unity 
and indivisibility \ matter is diverse and multiple. Mind is 
the determinating principle ; matter is indeterminate and in- 
definite. Confused matter receives form, and proportion, and 
order, and symmetry, by the action and interpenetration of the 
spiritual and indivisible element. In presence of facts of or- 
der, the human reason instinctively and necessarily affirms the 
presence and action of Mind. 

' '* Timseus," ch. ix. "^ Ibid. 



490 CHRISTIANITY AND 

" Pythagoras had long devoted his intellectual adoration to 
the lofty idea of Order. To his mind it seemed as the presid- 
ing genius of the serene and silent world. He had from his 
youth dwelt with delight upon the eternal relations of space 
and number, in which the very idea of jjroportion seems to find 
its first and immediate development, until at length it seemed 
as if the whole secret of the universe was hidden in these mys- 
terious correspondences. The world, in all its departments, 
moral and material, is a living arithmetic in its development, 
a realized geometry in its repose ; it is a * cosmos ' (for the 
word is Pythagorean), the expression of harmony^ the manifes- 
tation to sense of everlasting order j and the science of num- 
bers is the truest representation of its eternal laws." There- 
fore, argued Pythagoras and the Pythagoreans, as the reason 
of man can perceive the relations of an eternal order in the 
proportions of extension and number, the laws of proportion, 
and symmetry, and harmony must inhere in a Divine reason, 
an intelligent soul, which moves and animates the universe. 
The harmonies of the world which address themselves to the 
human mind must be the product of a Divine mind. The 
world, in its real structure, must be the image and copy of that 
divine proportion which the mind of man adores. It is the 
sensible type of the Divinity, the outward and multiple devel- 
opment of the Eternal Unity, the Eternal One — that is, God. 

The same argument is elaborated by Plato in his philosophy 
of beauty. God is with him the last reason, the ultimate foun- 
dation, the perfect ideal of all beauty — of all the order, propor- 
tion, harmony, sublimity, and excellence which reigns in the 
physical, the intellectual, and the moral world. He is the 
"Eternal Beauty, unbegotten and imperishable, exempt from 
all decay as well as increase — the perfect — the Divine Beauty "^ 
which is beheld by the pure mind in the celestial world. 

(3.) The Teleological proof, or the argument based upon 
the principle of intentionality or Final Cause, and is presented 
in the following form : 

' " Banquet," § 35. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 491 

The choice and adaptation of means to the accompUsh- 
ment of special ends supposes an intelligent purpose, a De- 
signing Mind. 

In the universe we see such choice and adaptation of 
means to ends. 

Therefore, the universe is the product of an intelligent, 
personal Cause. 

This is peculiarly the Socratic proof. He recognized the 
necessity and the irresistibility of the conviction that the choice 
and adaptation of means to ends is the effect of Purpose, the 
expression of Will/ There is an obviousness and a directness 
in this mode of argument which is felt by every human mind. 
In the "Memorabilia" Xenophon has preserved a conversation 
of Socrates with Aristodemus in which he develops this proof 
at great length. In reading the dialogue'^ in which Socrates 
instances the adaptation of our organization to the external 
world, and the examples of design in the human frame, we 
are forcibly reminded of the chapters Csi Paley, Whewell, and 
M'Cosh. Well might Aristodemus exclaim : " The more I 
consider it, the more it is evident to me that man must be the 
masterpiece of some great Artificer, carrying along with it infi- 
nite marks of the love and favor of Him who has thus formed 
it." The argument from Final Causes is pursued by Plato in 
the " Timaius ;" and in Aristotle, God is the Final Cause of all 
things.^ 

(4.) The Ontological or Ideological proof, or the argu- 
ment grounded on necessary and absolute ideas, which may be 
thrown into the following syllogism : 

Every attribute or quality implies a subject, and absolute 
modes necessarily suppose an Absolute Being. 

^ " Canst thou doubt, Aristodemus, whether a disposition of parts like 
this (in the human body) should be the work of chance, or of wisdom and 
contrivance ?" — *' Memorabilia," bk. i. ch. iv. 

^ " Memorabilia," bk. i. ch. iv. 

^ Aristotle clearly recognizes that an end or final cause implies Intelli- 
gence. " The appearance of ends and means is a proof of Design." — " Nat. 
Ausc," bk. ii. ch. viii. 



492 CHRISTIANITY AND 

Necessary and absolute truths or ideas are revealed in 

human reason as absolute modes. 

Therefore universal, necessary, and absolute ideas are 

modes of the absolute subject — that is, God, the foundation 

and source of all truth. 

This is the Platonic proof. Plato recognized the principle 
of substance (ovala — vTroKei/jieyov), and therefore he proceeds in 
the "Timaeus" to inquire for the real ground of all existence; 
and in the "Republic," for the real ground of all truth and 
certitude. 

The universe consists of two parts, permanent existences 
and transient phenomena — being and genesis; the one eter- 
nally constant, the other mutable and subject to change; the 
former apprehended by the reason, the latter perceived by 
sense. For each of these there must be a principle, subject, or 
substratum — a principle or subject-matter, which is the ground 
or condition of the sensible world, and a principle or substance, 
which is the ground and reason of the intelligible world or 
world of ideas. The subject-matter, or ground of the sensible 
world, is "the receptacle" and "nurse" of forms, an "invisible 
species and formless receiver (which is not earth, or air, or fire, 
or water) which receives the immanence of the intelligible."^ 
The subject or ground of the intelligible world is that in which 
ideal forms, or eternal archetypes inhere, and which impresses 
form upon the transitional element, and fashions the world 
after its own eternal models. This eternal and immutable sub- 
stance is God, who created the universe as a copy of the eter- 
nal archetypes — the everlasting thoughts which dwell in his 
infinite mind. 

These copies of the eternal archetypes or models are per- 
ceived by the reason of man in virtue of its participation in the 
Ultimate Reason. The reason of man is the organ of truth ; 
by an innate and inalienable right, it grasps unseen and eter- 
nal realities. The essence of the soul is akin to that which is 
real, permanent, and eternal ; — "// is the offspring and image of 
' " Timaeus," ch. xxiv. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 493 

God;^^ therefore it has a true communion with the realities of 
things, by virtue of this kindred and homogeneous nature. It 
can, therefore, ascend from the universal and necessary ideas, 
which are apprehended by the reason, to the absolute and 
supreme Idea, which is the attribute and perfection of God. 
When the human mind has contemplated any object of beauty, 
any fact of order, proportion, harmony, and excellency, it may 
rise to the notion of a quality common to all objects of beauty 
— " from a single beautiful body to two, from two to all others ; 
from beautiful bodies to beautiful sentiments, from beautiful 
sentiments to beautiful thoughts, until, from thought to thought, 
we arrive at the highest thought, which has no other object 
than the perfect, absolute. Divine Beauty J'"- When a man has, 
from the contemplation of instances of virtue, risen to the no- 
tion of a quality common to all these instances, this quality 
becomes the representative of an ineffable something which, 
in the sphere of immutable reality, answers to the conception 
in his soul. "At the extreme limits of the intellectual world 
is the Idea of the Good^ which is perceived with difficulty, but, 
in fine, can not be perceived without concluding that it is the 
source of all that is beautiful and good ; that in the visible 
world it produces light, and the star whence light directly 
comes ; that in the invisible world it directly produces truth 
and intelligence."^ This absolute Good is God. 

The order in which these several methods of proof were 
developed, will at once present itself to the mind of the reader 
as the natural order of thought. The first and most obvious 
aspect which nature presents to the opening mind is that of 
movement and change — a succession of phenomena suggesting 
the idea oi power. Secondly, a closer attention reveals a re- 
semblance of phenomena among themselves, a uniformity of 
nature — an order, proportion, and harmony pervading the cos- 
mos^ which suggest an identity and unity of power and of reasoii, 
pervading and controlling all things. Thirdly, a still closer 
inspection of nature reveals a wonderful adaptation of means 
^ " Banquet," § 34. '^ " Republic," bk. vii. ch. iii. 



494 CEBISTIANITY AND 

to the fulfillment of special ends, of organs designed to fulfill 
specific functions, suggesting the idea of purpose, contrivance, 
and choice, and indicating that the power which moves and 
determines the universe is a personal, thinking, and voluntary 
agent. And fourthly, a profounder study of the nature of 
thought, an analysis of personal consciousness, reveals that 
there are necessary principles, ideas, and laws, which univer- 
sally govern and determine thought to definite and immovable 
conceptions — as, for example, the principles of causality, of 
substance, of identity or unity, of order, of intentionality ; and 
that it is only under these laws that we can conceive the uni- 
verse. By the law of substance we are compelled to regard 
these ideas, which are not only laws of thought but also of 
things, as inherent in a subject, or Being, who made all things, 
and whose ideas are reflected in the reason of man. Thus 
from universal and necessary ideas we rise to the absolute Idea, 
from immutable principles to a First Principle of all principles, 
a First Thought of all thoughts — that is, to God. This is the 
history of the development of thought in the individual, and in 
the race — cause, order, design, idea, being, God. 



GREEK FHILOSOFHT. 495 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE PROPEDEUTIC OFFICE OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY (continued). 

" If we regard this sublime philosophy as a preparation for Christianity 
instead of seeking in it a substitute for the Gospel, we shall n'ot need to 
overstate its grandeur in order to estimate its real value." — Pressense. 

" Plato made me to know the true God. Jesus Christ showed me the j 
way to Him." — St. Augustine. 

THE preparatory office of Grecian philosophy is also seen 
in the department of morals. 

I. In the awakening and enthronement of Conscience as a law 
of duty ^ and the elevation and purification of the Moral Idea. 

The same law of evolution, which we have seen governing 
the history of speculative thought, may-ftlso be traced as deter- 
mining the progress of ethical inquiry. In this department 
there are successive stages marked, both in the individual and 
the national mind. There is, first, the simplicity and trust of 
childhood, submitting with unquestioning faith to prescribed . 
and arbitrary laws ; then the unsettled and ill-directed force 
of youth, questioning the authority of laws, and asking reasons 
why this or that is obligatory ; then the philosophic wisdom of 
riper years, recognizing an inherent law of duty, which has an 
absolute rightness and an imperative obligation. There is 
first a dim and shadowy apprehension of some lines of moral 
distinction, and some consciousness of obligation, but these 
rest mainly upon an outward law — the observed practice of 
others, or the command of the parent as, in some sense, the 
command of God. Then, to attain to personal convictions, 
man passes through a stage of doubt ; he asks for a ground of 
obligation, for an authority that shall approve itself to his own 
judgment and reason. At last he arrives at some ultimate 
principles of right, some immutable standard of duty ; he rec- 



496 CHRISTIANITY AND 

ognizes an inward law of conscience, and it becomes to him as 
the voice of God. He extends his analysis to history, and he 
finds that the universal conscience of the race has, in all ages, 
uttered the same behest. Should he live in Christian times, 
he discovers a wondrous harmony between the voice of God 
within the heart, and the voice of God within the pages of in- 
spiration. And now the convention of public opinion, and the 
laws of the state, are revered and upheld by him, just so far as 
they bear the imprimatur of reason and of conscience — that is, 
of God. 

This history of the normal development of the individual 
mind has its counterpart in the history of humanity. There is 
(i.) The age of popular and unconscious morality ; (2.) The tran- 
sitiojial, skeptical, or sophistical age ; and (3.) The philosophic or 
conscious age of morality ^ In the " Republic " of Plato, we 
have these three eras represented by different persons, through 
the course of the dialogue. The question is started — " what is 
Justice ? and an answer is given from the stand-point of popu- 
lar morality, by Polemarchus, who quotes the words of the poet 
Simonides, 

"To give to each his due is just;'"^ 

that is, justice is paying your debts. This doctrine being 
proved inadequate, an answer is given from the Sophistical 
point of view by Thrasymachus, who defines justice as " the 
advantage of the strongest " — that is, might is right, and right is 
might. ^ This answer being sharply refuted, the way is opened 
for a more philosophic account, which is gradually evolved in 
book iv., Glaucon and Adimantus personifying the practical 
understanding, which is gradually brought into harmony with 
philosophy, and Socrates the higher reason, as the purely phil- 
osophic conception. Justice is found to be the right proportion 
and harmonious development of all the elements of the soul, 
and the equal balance of all the interests of society, so as to 
secure a well-regulated and harmonious whole. 

^ Grant's " Aristotle's Ethics," vol. i. p. 46. 

"" " Republic," hV. i. § 6. ^ Ibid, bk. i. § 12. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 497 

The era of popular and tmconscious morality is represented 
by the times of Homer, Hesiod, the Gnomic poets, and "the 
Seven Wise Men of Greece." 

This was an age of instinctive action, rather than reflection 
— of poetry and feehng, rather than analytic thought. The 
rules of life were presented in maxims and proverbs, which do 
not rise above prudential counsels or empirical deductions. 
Morality was immediately associated with the religion of the 
state, and the will of the gods was the highest law for men. 
"Homer and Hesiod, and the Gnomic poets, constituted the 
educational course," to which may be added the saws and 
aphorisms of the Seven Wise Men, and we have before us the 
main sources of Greek views of duty. When the question was 
asked — " What is right ?" the answer was given by a quotation 
from Homer, Hesiod, Simonides, and the like. The morality 
of Homer " is concrete, not abstract ; it expresses the concep- 
tion of a heroic life, rather than a philosophic theory. It is 
mixed up with a religion which really consists in a celebration 
of the beauty of nature, and in a deification of the strong and 
brilliant qualities of human nature. It is a morality uninflu- 
enced by a regard for a future life. It clings with intense 
enjoyment and love to the present world, and the state after 
death looms up in the distance as a cold and repugnant shad- 
ow. And yet it would often hold death preferable to disgrace. 
The distinction between a noble and ignoble life, is strongly 
marked in Homer, and yet a sense of right and wrong about 
particular actions seems fluctuating " and confused.^ A sen- 
suous conception of happiness is the chief good, and mere 
temporal advantage the principal reward of virtue. We hear 
nothing of the approving smile of conscience, of inward self- 
satisfaction, and peace, and harmony, resulting from the prac- 
tice of virtue. Justice, energy, temperance, chastity, are en- 
joined, because they secure temporal good. And yet, with all 
this imperfection, the poets, present " a remarkable picture of 
primitive simplicity, chastity, justice, and practical piety, under 
^ Grant's "Aristotle's Ethics," vol. i. p. 51. 
32 



498 CHRISTIANITY AND 

the three-fold influence of right moral feeling, mutual respect, 
and fear of the divine displeasure."^ 

The traiisitional^ skeptical, or sophistical era begins with Pro- 
tagoras. Poetry and proverbs had ceased to satisfy the reason 
of man. The awakening intellect had begun to call in ques- 
tion the old maxims and "wise saws," to dispute the arbitrary 
authority of the poets, and even to arraign the institutions of 
society. It had already begun to seek for some reasonable 
foundation of authority for the opinions, customs, laws, and in- 
stitutions which had descended to them from the past, and to 
ask why men were obliged to do this or that? The question 
whether there is at bottom any real difference between truth 
and error, right and wrong, was now fairly before the human 
mind. The ultimate standard of all truth and all right was 
now the grand object of pursuit. These inquiries were not, 
however, conducted by the Sophists with the best motives. 
They were not always prompted by an earnest desire to know 
the truth, and an earnest purpose to embrace and do the right. 
They talked and argued for mere effect — to display their dia- 
lectic subtilty, or their rhetorical power. They taught virtue 
for mere emolument and pay. They delighted, as Cicero tells 
us, to plead the opposite sides of a cause with equal effect. 
And they found exquisite pleasure in raising difficulties, main- 
taining paradoxes, and passing off mere tricks of oratory for 
solid proofs. This is the uniform representation of the sophis- 
tical spirit which is given by all the best writers who lived 
nearest to their times, and who are, therefore, to be presumed 
to have known them best. Grote'^ has made an elaborate de- 
fense of the Sophists ; he charges Plato with gross misrepresen- 
tation. His portraits of them are denounced as mere carica- 
tures, prompted by a spirit of antagonism ; all antiquity is pre- 
sumed to have been misled by him. No one, however, can 
read Grant's " Essay on the History of Moral Philosophy in 
Greece "' without feeling that his vindication of Plato is com- 

^ Tyler, " Theology of the Greek Poets," p. 167. 

'* " History of Greece." ^ Aristotle's " Ethics," vol. i. ch. ii. 



GREEK rniLOSOPHY. 499 

plete and unanswerable : " Plato never represents the Sophists 
as teaching a lax morality to their disciples. He does not 
make sophistry to consist in holding wicked opinions ; he rep- 
resents them as only too orthodox in general/ but capable of 
giving utterance to immoral paradoxes for the sake of vanity. 
Sophistry rather tampers and trifles with the moral convictions 
than directly attacks them." The Sophists were wanting in 
deep conviction, in moral earnestness, in sincere love of truth, 
in reverence for goodness and purity, and therefore their tri- 
fling, insincere, and paradoxical teaching was unfavorable to 
goodness of life. The tendency of their method is forcibly de- 
picted in the words of Plato : " There are certain dogmas re- 
lating to what is Just and good in which we have been brought 
up from childhood — obeying and reverencing them. Other 
opinions recommending pleasure and license we resist, out of 
respect for the old hereditary maxims. Well, then, a question 
comes up concerning what is right .'* He gives some answer 
such as he has been taught, and straightway is refuted. He 
tries again, and is again refuted. And, when this has hap- 
pened pretty often, he is reduced to the opinion that nothing is 
either right or wrong; and in the same way it happens about 
the just and the good, and all that before we have held in 
reverence. On this, he naturally abandons his allegiance to 
the old principles and takes up with those he before resisted, 
and so, from being a good citizen, he becomes lawless.'"* And, 
in point of fact, this was the theoretical landing-place of the 
Sophists. We do not say they became practically " lawless " 
and antinomian, but they did arrive at the settled opinion that 
right and wrong, truth and error, are solely matter of private 
opinion and conventional usage. Man's own fluctuating opin- 
ion is the measure and standard of all things.^ They who 
" make the laws, make them for their own advantage."* There 

^ " His teachings will be good counsels about a man's own affairs, how 
best to govern his family ; and also about the affairs of the state, how most 
ably to administer and speak of state affairs." — "Protag.," § 26. 

2'" Republic," bk. vii. ch. xvii. ^ " Theastetus," § 23. 

^"Gorgias,"§§ 85-89. 



500 CHRISTIANITY AND 

is no such thing as Eternal Right. " That which appears just 
and honorable to each city is so for that city, as long as the 
opinion prevails."* 

The age of the Sophists was a transitional period — a neces- 
sary, though, in itself considered, an unhappy stage in the prog- 
ress of the human mind ; but it opened the way for, 

The SocratiCy philosophic^ or conscious age of morals. It has 
been said that " before Socrates there was no morality in 
Greece, but only propriety of conduct." If by this is meant 
that prior to Socrates men simply followed the maxims of 
"the Theologians,"^ and obeyed the laws of the state, without 
reflection and inquiry as to the intrinsic character of the acts, 
and without any analysis and exact definition, so as to attain 
to principles of ultimate and absolute right, it must be accepted 
as true— there was no philosophy of morals. Socrates is there- 
fore justly regarded as " the father of moral philosophy." Aris- 
totle says that he confined himself chiefly to ethical inquiries. 
He sought a determinate conception and an exact definition of 
virtue. As Xenophon has said of him, " he never ceased ask- 
ing. What is piety? what is impiety? what is noble? what is 
base ? what is just? what is unjust ? what is temperance ? what 
is madness?"^ And these questions were not asked in the 
Sophistic spirit, as a dialectic exercise, or from idle curiosity. 
He was a perfect contrast to the Sophists. They had slighted 
Truth, he made her the mistress of his soul. They had turned 
away from her, he longed for more perfect communion with 
her. They had deserted her for money and renown, he was 
faithful to her in poverty.* He wanted to know what piety 
was, that he might be pious. He desired to know what jus- 
tice, temperance, nobility, courage were, that he might cultivate 
and practise them. He wrote no books, delivered no lectures ; 
he instituted no school; he simply conversed in the. shop, the 
market-place, the banquet-hall, and the prison. This philoso- 

' " Theaetetus," §§ 65-75. ^ Homer, Hesiod, etc. 

^ " Memorabilia," bk. i. ch. i. p. 16. 

* Lewes's "Biographical History of Philosophy," p. 122. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 501 

phy was not so much a doctrine as a life. " What is remarkable 
in him is not the system but the man. The memory he left be- 
hind him amongst his disciples, though idealized — the affec- 
tion, blended with reverence, which they never ceased to feel 
for his person, bear testimony to the elevation of his character 
and his moral purity. We recognize in him a Greek of Athens 
— one who had imbibed many dangerous errors, and on whom 
the yoke of pagan custom still weighed ; but his life was never- 
theless a noble life ; and it is to calumny we must have re- 
course if we are to tarnish its beauty by odious insinuations, as 
Lucian did, and as has been too frequently done, after him, by 
unskillful defenders of Christianity,^ who imagine it is the 
gainer by all that degrades human nature. Born in a hum- 
ble position, destitute of all the temporal advantages which the 
Greeks so passionately loved, Socrates exerted a kingship over 
minds. His dominion was the more real for being less appar- 
ent. . . . His power consisted of three things : his devoted 
affection for his disciples, his disinterested love of truth, and 
the perfect harmony of his life and doctrine. ... If he recom- 
mended temperance and sobriety, he also set the example; 
poorly clad, satisfied with little, he disdained all the delicacies 
of life. He possessed every species of courage. On the field 
of battle he was intrepid, and still more intrepid when he re- 
sisted the caprices of the multitude who demanded of him, 
when he was a senator, to commit the injustice of summoning 
ten generals before the tribunals. He also infringed the in- 
iquitous orders of the thirty tyrants of Athens. The satires of 
Aristophanes neither moved nor irritated him. The same 
dauntless firmness he displayed when brought before his 
judges, charged with impiety. ' If it is your wish to absolve 
me on condition that I henceforth be silent, I reply I love and 
honor you, but I ought rather to obey the gods than you. Nei- 
ther in the presence *of judges nor of the enemy is it permitted 
me, or any other man, to use every sort of means to escape 
death. It is not death but crime that it is difficult to avoid j 
* Watson's ''Institutes of Theology," vol. i. p. 374. 



502 CHRISTIANITY AND 

crime moves faster than death. So I, old and heavy as I am, 
have allowed myself to be overtaken by death, while my ac- 
cusers, light and vigorous, have allowed themselves to be over- 
taken by the light-footed crime. I go, then, to suffer death ; 
they to suffer shame and iniquity. I abide by my punishment, 
as they by theirs. All is according to order.' It was the same 
fidelity to duty that made Socrates refuse to escape from prison, 
in order not to violate the laws of his country, to which, even 
though irritated, more respect is due than to a father. * Let us 
walk in the path,' he says *that God has traced for us.' These 
last words show the profound religious sentiment which ani- 
mated Socrates. ... It is impossible not to feel that there was 
something divine in such a life crowned with such a death. "^ 

Socrates laid the foundation for conscious morality by 
placing the ground of right and wrong in an eternal and un- 
changeable reason which illuminates the reason and conscience 
of every man. He often asserted that morality is a science 
which can not be taught. It depends mainly upon principles 
which are discovered by an inward light. Accordingly he re- 
garded it as the main business of education to " draw out " into 
the light of consciousness the principles of right and justice 
which are infolded within the conscience of man — to deliver 
the mind of the secret truth which was striving towards the 
light of day. Therefore he called his method the " maieutic " 
or " obstetric " art. He felt there w^as something divine in all 
men (answering to his to ^aifiovior or ^ai/jLOPioy n — a divine 
and supernatural something — a warning " voice " — a gnomic 
" sign " — a " law of God written on the heart "), which by a sys- 
tem of skillful interrogations he sought to elicit, so that each 
might hear for himself the voice of God, and, hearing, might 
obey. Thus was he the "great prophet of the human con- 
science," and a messenger of God to the heathen world, to pre- 
pare the way of the Lord. 

The morality of conscience was carried to its highest point 
by Plato. From the moment he became the disciple of Soc- 
^ Pressense, " Religions before Christ," pp. 109-111. 



GBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 503 

rates he sympathized deeply with the spirit and the method of 
his master. He had the same deep seriousness of spirit, that 
same earnestness of purpose, that same inward reverence for 
justice, and purity, and goodness, which dwelt in the heart of 
Socrates. A naturally noble nature, he loved truth with all 
the glow and fervor of his young heart. He felt that if any 
thing gave meaning and value to life, it must be the contem- 
plation of absolute truth, absolute beauty, and absolute Good. 
This absolute Good is God, who is the first principle of all 
ideas, the fountain of all the order and proportion and beau- 
ty of the universe, the source of all the good which exists in 
nature and in man. To practise goodness — to conform the 
character to the eternal models of order, proportion, and ex- 
cellence, is to resemble God. To aspire after perfection of 
moral being, to secure assimilation to God {b^oiioaiQ de^) is the 
noble aspiration of Plato's soul. 

When we read the " Gorgias," the " Philebus," and especially 
the "Republic," with what noble joy arejwe filled on hearing the 
voice of conscience, like a harp swept by a seraph's hand, utter- 
ing such deep-toned melodies ! How does he drown the clam- 
ors of passion, the calculations of mere expediency, the sophism 
of mere personal interest and utility. If he calls us to Vv^itness 
the triumph of the wicked in the first part of the "Republic," it 
is in order that we may at the end of the book see the de- 
ceitfulness of their triumph. "As to the wicked," he says, "I 
maintain that even if they succeed at first in concealing what 
they ' are, most of them betray themselves at the end of their 
career. They are covered with opprobrium, and present evils 
are nothing compared with those that awaif them in the other 
life. As to the just man, whether in sickness or in poverty, 
these imaginary evils will turn to his advantage in this life, and 
after his death; because the providence of the gods is neces- 
sarily attentive to the interests of him who labors to become 
just, and to attain, by the practice of virtue, to the most per- 
fect resemblance to God which is possible to man.'" He rises 
^ " Republic," bk. x. ch. xii. 



504 CHRISTIANITY AND 

above all " greatest happiness principles," and asserts distinct- 
ly in the " Gorgias " that it is better to suffer wrong than to do 
wrong.^ "I maintain," says he," "that what is most shameful 
is not to be struck unjustly on the cheek, or to be wounded in 
the body ; but that to strike and wound me unjustly, to rob 
me, or reduce me to slavery — to commit, in a word, any kind 
of injustice towards me, or what is mine — is a thing far worse 
and more odious for him who commits the injustice, than for 
me who suffer it/"* It is a great combat, he says, greater than 
we think, that wherein the issue is whether we shall be virtu- 
ous or wicked. Neither glory, nor riches, nor dignities, nor 
poetry, deserves that we should neglect justice for them. The 
moral idea in Plato has such intense truth and force, that it 
has at times a striking analogy with the language of the Holy 
Scriptures.^ 

The obligation of moral rectitude is, by Plato, derived from 
the authoritative utterances of conscience as the voice of God. 
We must do right because reason and conscience say it is right. 
In the " Euthyphron " he maintains that the moral quality of 
actions is not dependent on the arbitrary will of a Supreme 
Governor ; — " an act is not holy because the gods love it, but 
the gods love it because it is holy." The eternal law of right 
dwells in the Eternal Reason of God, the idea of right in all 
human minds is a ray of that Eternal Reason ; and the require- 
ment of the divine law that we shall do right is, and must be, 
in harmony with both. 

The present life is regarded by Plato as a state of probation 
and discipline, the future life as one of reward and punishment.* 

Plato was thus to the heathen world "the great apostle of 
the moral idea;" he followed up and completed the work of 
Socrates. " The voice of God, that still found a profound echo 
in man's heart, possessed in him an organ to which all Greece 
gave ear ; and the austere revelation of conscience this time 

' " Gorgias," §§ 59-80. "^ Ibid., § 137. 

' Pressense, " Religions before Christ," p. 129. 

* " Republic," bk. x. ch. xv., xvi.; "Laws," bk. x. ch. xiii. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 505 

embodied in language too harmonious not to entice by the 
beauty of form, a nation of artists, they received it. The tables 
of the eternal law, car\'ed in purest marble and marvellously 
sculptured, were read by them." 

In Plato both the theistic conception and the moral idea 
seem to have touched the zenith. The philosophy of Aristotle, 
considered as a whole, appears on one side to have passed the 
line of the great Hellenic period. If it did not inaugurate, it 
at least prepared the way for the decline. It perfected logic, 
as the instrument of ratiocination, and gave it exactness and 
precision. Yet taken all in all, it was greatly inferior to its 
predecessor. From the moral point of view it is a decided re- 
trogression. The god of Aristotle is indifferent to virtue. He 
is pure thought rather than moral perfection. He takes no 
cognizance of man. Morality has no eternal basis, no divine 
type, and no future reward. Therefore Aristotle's philosophy 
had little power over the conscience and heart. 

During the grand Platonic period Imman reason made its 
loftiest flight it rose aloft and soared towards heaven, but alas ! 
its wings, like those of Icarus, melted in the sun and it fell to 
earth again. Instead of wax it needed the strong " eagle pin- 
ions of faith " which revelation only can supply. The deca- 
dence is strongly marked both in the Epicurean and Stoic 
schools. They both express the feeling of exhaustion, disap- 
pointment, and despair. The popular theology had lost its 
hold upon the public mind. The gods no longer visited the 
earth. "The mysterious voice which, according to the poetic 
legend related by Plutarch, was heard out at sea — 'Great Pan 
is dead ' — rose up from every heart ; the voice of an incredu- 
lous age proclaimed the coming end of paganism. The oracles 
were dumb." There was no vision in the land. All faith in a 
beneficent overruling Providence was lost, and the hope of im- 
mortality was well-nigh gone. The doctrines of a resurrection 
and a judgment to come, were objects of derisive mockery.^ 
Philosophy directed her attention solely to the problem of in- 
^ Acts xvii. 32. 



5o6 CHRISTIANITY AND 

dividual well-being on earth; it became simply a philosophy 
of life, and not, as with Plato, " a preparation for death." The 
grosser minds sought refuge in the doctrines, of Epicurus. 
They said, " Pleasure is the chief good, the end of life is to en- 
joy yourself;" to this end " dismiss the fear of gods, and, above 
all, the fear of death." The nobler souls found an asylum with 
the Stoics. They said, " Fata nos ducunt — The Fates lead us ! 
Live conformable to reason. Endure and abstain!" Not- 
withstanding numerous and serious errors, the ethical system 
of the Stoics was wonderfully pure. This must be confessed 
by any one who reads the " Enchiridion " of Epictetus, and the 
"Meditations" of Aurelius. "The highest end of life is to con- 
template truth and to obey the Eternal Reason. God is to be 
reverenced above all things, and universally submitted to. The 
noblest ofhce of reason is to subjugate passion and conduct to 
virtue. Virtue is the supreme good, which is to be pursued for 
its own sake, and not from fear or hope. That is sufficient for 
happiness which is seated only in the mind, and therefore inde- 
pendent of external things. The consciousness of well-doing 
is reward enough without the applause of others. And no fear 
of loss, or pain, or even death, must be suffered to turn us aside 
from truth and virtue."^ 

The preparatory office of Christianity in the field of ethics is 
further seen, 

11. I?i the fact that, by aji experiment conducted on the largest 
scale, it demonstrated the insufficiency of reason to elaborate a per- 
fect ideal of moral excellence, and develop the 7noral forces necessary 
to secure its realization. 

We have seen that the moral idea in Socrates, Plato, Epicte- 
tus, Marcus Aurelius, and Seneca rose to a sublime height, and 
that, under its influence, they developed a noble and heroic 
character. At the same time it must be conceded that their 
ethical system was marked by signal blemishes and radical de- 
fects. After all its excellence, it did not give roundness, com- 
pleteness, and symmetry to moral life. The elements which 
^ Marcus Aurelius. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 507 

really purify and ennoble man, and lend grace and beauty to 
life, were utterly wanting. Their systems were rather a disci- 
pline of the reason than a culture of the heart. The reason 
held in check the lower passions and propensities of the nature, 
but it did not evoke the softer, gentler, purer emotions of the 
soul. The cardinal virtues of the ancient ethical systems are 
Prudence, Justice, Temperance, and Courage, all which are in 
the last analysis reduced to Wisdom. Humility, Meekness, 
Forgiveness of injuries, Love of even enemies, Universal Be- 
nevolence, Real Philanthropy, the graces which give beauty to 
character and bless society, are scarcely known. It is true 
that in Epictetus and Seneca we have some counsels to hu- 
mility, to forbearance, and forgiveness ; but it must be borne in 
mind that Christianity was now in the air, exerting an indirect 
influence beyond the limits of the labors of the indefatigable 
missionaries of the Cross.' By their predecessors, these quali- 
ties were disparaged rather than upheld. Resentment of in- 
juries was applauded as a virtue, and meekness was proclaimed 
a defect and a weakness. They knew nothing of a forgiving 
spirit, and were strangers to the charity "which endureth all 
things, hopeth all things, and never fails." The enlarged phi- 
lanthrophy which overleaps the bounds of kindred and nation- 
ality, and embraces a common humanity in its compassionate 
regards and benevolent efforts, was unknownc Socrates, the 
noblest of all the Grecians, was in no sense cosmopolitan in his 
feeling. His whole nature and character wore a Greek impress. 
He could scarce be tempted to go beyond the gates of Athens, 
and his care was all for the Athenian people. He could not 
conceive an universal philanthropy. Plato, in his solicitude 
to reduce his ideal state to a harmonious whole, answering to 
his idea of Justice, sacrificed the individual. He superseded 
private property, broke up the sacred relations of family and 
home, degraded woman, and tolerated slavery. Selfishness 
was to be overcome, and political order maintained, by a rigid 

^ Seneca lived in the second century ; Epictetus, in the latter part of the 
first century. 



5o8 CHRISTIANITY AND 

communism. To harmonize individual rights and national in- 
terests, was the wisdom reserved for the fishermen of Galilee. 
The whole method of Plato's " Politeia," breathes the spirit of 
legalism in all its severity, untempered by the spirit of Love. 
This was the living force which was wanting to give energy to 
the ideals of the reason and conscience, to furnish high motive 
to virtue, to prompt to deeds of heroic sacrifice and suffering 
for the good of others ; and this could not be inspired by phi- 
losophy, nor constrained by legislation. This love must de- 
scend from above. " The Platonic love " was a mere intellect- 
ual appreciation of beauty, and order, and proportion, and ex- 
cellence. It was not the love of man as the offspring and 
image of God, as the partaker of a common nature, and the 
heir of a common immortality. Such love was first revealed 
on earth by the incarnate Son of God, and can only be attained 
by human hearts under the inspiration of his teaching and life, 
and the renewing influence of the Holy Spirit. "Love is of 
God, and every one that loveth is born of God and knoweth 
God." To "love our neighbor as ourself" is the golden pre- 
cept of the Son of God, who is incarnate Love. The equality 
of all men as " the offspring of God " had been nominally rec- 
ognized by the Stoic philosophers j its realization had been 
rendered possible to the popular thought by Roman conquest, 
law, and jurisprudence ; these had prepared the way for its 
fullest announcement and practical recognition by the world. 
At this providential juncture St. Paul appears on Mars' Hill, 
and in the presence of the assembled philosophers proclaims, 
"God hath 7nade of one hlood all 7iatio7is of men ^ A lofty ideal 
of moral excellence had been attained by Plato — the concep- 
tion of a high and inflexible morality, which contrasted most 
vividly with the depravity which prevailed in Athenian society. 
The education " of the public assemblies, the courts, the thea- 
tres, or wherever the multitude gathered " was unfavorable to 
virtue. And the inadequacy of all mere human teaching to re- 
sist this current of evil, and save the young men of the age from 
ruin, is touchingly and mournfully confessed by Plato. " There 



GREEK PHILOSOFHY. 509 

is not, there never was, there never will be a moral education 
possible that can countervail the education of which these are 
the dispensers ; that is, human education : I except, with the, 
proverb, that which is Divine. And, truly, any soul that in 
such governments escapes the common wreck, can only escape 
by the special favor of heaven."^ He affirms again and again 
that man can not by himself rise to purity and goodness. " Vir- 
tue is not natural to man, neither is it to be learned, but it 
comes to us by a divine influence. Virtue is the gift of God in 
those who possess it."^ That '"gift of God" was about to be 
bestowed, in all its fullness of power and blessing, "through 
Jesus Christ our Lord." 

In the department of religious feeling and sentiment, the 
propaedeutic office of Greek philosophy is seen, in general, in 
the revealing of the immediate spiritual wants of the soul, and 
the distinct presentation of the problem which Christianity 
alone can solve. 

I. // awakened in man the sense of distance and estrangement 
from God, and the need of a Mediator — " a daysmaft betwixt us, 
that might lay his hand upon us both."^ 

During the period of unconscious and unreflective theism, 
the sentiment of the Divine was one of objective nearness and 
personal intimacy. The gods interposed directly in the affairs 
of men, and held frequent and familiar intercourse with our 
race. They descend to the battle-field of Troy, and mingle in 
the bloody strife. They grace the wedding-feast by their pres- 
ence, and heighten the gladness with celestial music. They 
visit the poor and the stranger, and sometimes clothe the old 
and shrivelled beggar with celestial beauty. They inspire their 
favorites with strength and courage, and fill their mouths with 
wisdom and eloquence. They manifest their presence by signs 
and wonders, by visions and dreams, by auguries and prophetic 
voices. But more frequently than all, they are seen in the 
ordinary phenomena of nature, the sunshine and storm, the 

^ *' Republic," bk. vi. ch. vi., vii. ^ " Meno ;" see conclusion. 

^ Job ix. 33. 



5IO 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



winds and tempests, the hail and rain. The natural is, in fact, 
the supernatural, and all the changes of nature are the move- 
ment and action of the Divine. The feeling of dependence is 
immediate and universal, and worship is the natural and spon- 
taneous act of man. 

But .the period of reflection is inevitable. Man turns his 
inquiring gaze towards nature and desires, by an imperfect 
eflbrt of physical induction, to reach "the first principle and 
cause of things." Soon he discovers the prevalence of uni- 
formity in nature, the actions of physical properties and agen- 
cies, and he catches some glimpses of the reign of universal 
law. The natural tendency of this discovery is obvious in the 
weakening of his sense of dependence on the immediate agen- 
cy of God. The Egyptians told Herodotus that, as their fields 
were regularly irrigated by the waters of the Nile, they were 
less dependent on God than the Greeks, whose lands were 
watered by rains, and who must perish if Jupiter did not send 
them showers.^ As man advances in the field of mere physical 
inquiry, God recedes ; from the region of explained phenome- 
na, he retires into the region of unexplained phenomena — the 
border-land of mystery. The gods are driven from the woods 
and streams, the winds and' waves. Neptune does not abso- 
lutely control the seas, nor ^olus the winds. The Divine 
becomes, no more a physical apx>'? — a nature-power, but a Su- 
preme Mind, an ineffable Spirit, an invisible God, the Supreme 
Essence of Essences, the Supreme Idea of Ideas {HIoq avrb 
Ka& avTo) apprehended by human reason alone, but having an 
independent, eternal, substantial, personal being. Through 
the instrumentality of Platonism, the idea of God becomes 
clearer and purer. Man had learned that communion with 
the Divinity was something more than an apotheosis of hu- 
manity, or a pantheistic absorption. He caught glimpses of a 
higher and holier union. He had surrendered the ideal of a 
national communion with God, and of personal protection 
through a federal religion, and now w^as thrown back upon 
* Herodotus, vol. ii. bk. ii. ch. xiii. p. 14 (Rawlinson's edition). 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 51 1 

himself to find some channel of personal approach to God. 
But alas ! he could not find it. A God so vastly elevated be- 
yond human comprehension, who could only be apprehended 
by the most painful effort of abstract thought ; a God so infi- 
nitely removed from man by the purity and rectitude of his 
character ; a God who was all pure reason, seemed alien to all 
the yearnings and sympathies of the human heart; and such 
a God, dwelling in pure light, seemed inapproachable and 
inacessible to man.^ The purifying of the religious idea had 
evoked a new ideal, and this ideal was painfully remote. By 
the energy of abstract thought man had striven to pierce the 
veil, and press into "the Holy of Holies," to come into the 
presence of God, and he had failed. And he had sought by 
moral discipline, by self-mortification, by inward purification, 
to raise himself to that lofty plane of purity, where he might 
catch some glimpses of the vision of a holy God, and still he 
failed. Nay, more, he had tried the power of prayer. Socra- 
tes, and Plato, and Cleanthes had bowed the knee and moved 
the lips in prayer. The emperor Aurelius, and the slave Epic- 
tetus had prayed, and prayer, no doubt, intensified their long- 
ing, and sharpened and agonized their desire, but it did not 
raise them to a satisfying and holy koinonia in the divine life. 
"It seems to me" — said Plato — "as Homer says of Minerva, 
that she removed the mist from before the eyes of Diomede, 

" ' That he might clearly see 'twixt Gods and men.' 

so must he, in the first place, remove from your soul the mist 
that now dwells there, and then apply those things through 
which you will be able to know "^ and rightly pray to God. 

To develop this innate desire and " feeling after God " was 
the grand design of providence in " fixing the times " of the 
Qreek nation, and "the boundaries of their habitation."^ Man 
was brought, through a period of discipline, to feel his need 

^ " To discover the Maker and Father of the universe is a hard task ; . . . . 
to make him known to all is impossible." — " Timaeus," ch. ix. 
^ " Second Alcibiades," § 23. ^ Acts xvii. 26, 27. 



512 



CHRISTIANITY AND 



of a personal relation to God. He was made to long for a 
realizing sense of his presence — to desire above all things a 
Father, a Counsellor, and a Friend — a living ear into which 
he might groan his anguish, or hymn his joy ; and a" living 
heart that could beat towards him in compassion, and prompt 
immediate succor and aid. The idea of a pure Spiritual Es- 
sence without form, and without emotion, pervading all, and 
transcending all, is too vague and abstract to yield us comfort, 
and to exert over us any persuasive power. "Our moral 
weakness shrinks from it in trembling awe. The heart can 
not feed on sublimities. We can not make a home of cold 
magnificence ; we can not take immensity by the hand."^ 
Hence the need and the desire that God shall condescend- 
ingly approach to man, and by some manifestation of himself in 
human form, and through the sensibilities of the human heart, 
commend himself to the heart of man — in other words, the 
need of an Incarnation. Thus did the education of our race, 
by the dispensation of philosophy, prepare the way for him 
who was consciously or unconsciously ^'- the Desire of Nations ^^ 
and the deepening earnestness and spiritual solicitude of the 
heathen world heralded the near approach of Him who was not 
only "the Hope of Israel" but "the Saviour of the world." 

The idea of an Incarnation was not unfamiliar to human 
thought, it was no new or strange idea to the heathen mind. 
The numberless metamorphoses of Grecian mythology, the in- 
carnations of Brahm, the avatars of Vishnu, and the human 
form of Krishna had naturalized the thought.'^ So that when 
the people of Lystra saw the apostles Paul and Barnabas exer- 
cising supernatural powers of healing, they said, "The gods 
have come down to us in the likeness of men !" and they 
called Barnabas Jupiter, and Paul, Mercurius. The idea in 
its more definite form may have been, and indeed was, com- 
municated to the world through the agency of the dispersed 
Jews. So that Virgil, the Roman poet, who was contempo- 
rary with Christ, seems to re-echo the prophecy of Isaiah — 
' Caird. = Young's " Christ of History," p. 248. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 513 

"The last age decreed by the Fates is come, 
And a new frame of all things does begin ; 
A holy progeny from heaven descends 
Auspicious in his birth, which puts an end 
To the iron age, and from which shall arise 
A golden age, most glorious to behold." 

II. Finally, Greek philosophy prepared ike way for Christianity 
by awakening and deepening the consciousness of guilt, and the de- 
sire for Redemption, 

The consciousness of sin, and the consequent need of expi- 
ation for sin, were gradually unfolded in the Greek mind. The 
idea of sin was at first revealed in a confused and indefinite 
feeling of some external, supernatural, and bewildering influence 
which man can not successfully resist ; but yet so in harmony 
with the sinner's inclination, that he can not divest himself of 
all responsibility. " Homer has no word answering in compre- 
hensiveness or depth of meaning to the word sin, as it is used 

in the Bible The noun afiapria which is appropriated to 

express this idea in the Greek of the New Testament, does not 

occur in the Homeric poems The word which is most 

frequently employed to express wrong-doing of every kind is 

arri, with its corresponding verb The radical signification 

of the word seems to be a befooling — a depriving one of his 
senses and his reason, as by unseasonable sleep, and excess 
of wine, joined with the influence of evil companions, and the 
power of destiny, or the deity. Hence, the Greek imagina- 
tion, which impersonated every great power, very naturally 
conceived of "Arr; as a person, a sort of omnipresent and uni- 
versal cause of folly and sin, of mischief and misery, who, 
though the daughter of Jupiter, yet once fooled or misled Ju- 
piter himself, and thenceforth, cast down from heaven to earth, 
walks with light feet over the heads of men, and makes all 
things go wrong. Hence, too, when men come to their senses, 
and see what folly and wrong they have perpetrated, they cast 
the blame on "Arrj, and so, ultimately, on Jupiter and the 
gods."^ 

' Tyler, "Theology of the Greek Poets," pp. 174, 175. 
33 



514 CHRISTIANITY AND 

"Oft hath this matter been by Greeks discussed, 
And I their frequent censure have incurred : 
Yet was not I the cause ; but Jove, and Fate, 
And gloomy Erinnys, who combined to throw 
A strong delusion o'er my mind, that day 
I robb'd Achilles of his lawful prize. 
What could I do ? a Goddess all o'erruled, 
Daughter of Jove, dread Ate, baleful power 
Misleading all; with light step she moves. 
Not on the earth, but o'er the heads of men. 
With blighting touch, and many hath caused to err."^ 

And yet, though Agamemnon here attempts to shuffle off the 
guilt of his trangression upon Ate, Jove, and Fate, yet at other 
times he confesses his folly and wrong, and makes no attempt 
to cast the responsibility on the gods.^ Though misled by a 
"baleful power," he was not compelled. Though tempted by 
an evil goddess, he yet followed his own sinful passions, and 
therefore he owns himself responsible. 

To satisfy the demands of divine justice, to show its hatred 
of sin, and to deter others from transgression, sin is punished. 
Punishment is the penalty due to sin ; in the language of 
Homer, it is the payment of a debt incurred by sin. When the 
transgressor is punished he is said to " pay off," or " pay back " 
his crimes ; in other words, to expatiate or atone for them. 

" If not at once. 
Yet soon or late will Jove assert their claim. 
And heavy penalty the perjured pay 
With their own blood, their children's, and their wives'."^ 

At the same time the belief is expressed that the gods may be, 
and often are, propitiated by prayers and sacrifices, and thus 
the penalty is remitted. 

" The Gods themselves, in virtue, honor, strength. 
Excelling thee, may yet be mollified ; 
For they when mortals have transgressed, or fail'd 
To do aright, by sacrifice and pray'r, 
•Libations and burnt-off'rings, may be sooth'd."^ 

^ " Iliad," bk. xix. 1. 91-101 (Lord Derby's translation). 

2 Ibid., bk. ix. 1. 132-136. ' Ibid., bk. iv. 1. 185-188. 

* Ibid., bk. be. 1. 581-585. 



GREEK FHILO SOPHY. 515 

Polytheism, then, as Dr. Schaff has remarked, had the voice 
of conscience, and a sense, however obscure, of sin. It felt 
the need of reconciliation with deity, and sought that recon- 
ciliation by prayer, penance, and sacrifice.^ 

The sense of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the abso- 
lute need of expiation, is determined with increasing clearness 
and definiteness in the tragic poets. 

The first great law which the Tragedians recognize, as a law 
written on the heart, is " that the sinner must suffer for his 
sins." The connection between sin and suffering is constantly 
recognized as a natural and necessary connection, like that be- 
tween sowing and reaping. 

" A haughty spirit, blossoming, bears a crop 
Of woe, and reaps a harvest of despair."^ 

" Lust and violence beget lust and violence, and vengeance 
too, at the appointed time."* "Impiety multiplies and per- 
petuates itself."* "The sinner pays the debt he contracted, 
ends the career that he begins,"^ "and drinks to the dregs the 
cup of cursing which he himself had filled."^ Conscience is 
the instrument in the hands of Justice and Vengeance by 
which the Most High inflicts punishment. The retributions 
of sin are "wrought out by God." 

The consequences of great crimes, especially in high places, 
extend to every person and every thing connected with them. 
" The country and the country's gods are polluted."^ " The 
army and the people share in the curse."^ "The earth itself is 
polluted with the shedding of blood,"* " and even the innocent 
and the virtuous who share the enterprises of the wicked may 
be involved in their ruin, as the pious man must sink with the 
ungodly when he embarks in the same ship."^" 

The pollution and curse of sin, when once contracted by an 
individual, or entailed upon a family, will rest upon them and 

^ Tyler, "Theology of the Greek Poets," p. 258. 

^ iEschylus, " Persae," 1. 821, ^ "Agamemnon," 1. 763, 

^ Ibid., 1. 788. ' Ibid., I. 1529. « Ibid., 1. 1397. 

' Ibid., 1. 1645. « " Persae," /^j/»?. » « Sup.," 265. 

^° " Theb.," p. 602. 



5i6 CHRISTIANITY AND 

pursue them till the polluted individual or the hated and ac- 
cursed race is extinct, unless in some way the sin can be ex- 
piated, or some god interpose to arrest the penalty. The crim- 
inal must die by the hand of justice, and even in Hades ven- 
geance will still pursue him.^ Others may in time be washed 
away by ablutions, worn away by exile and pilgrimage, and ex- 
piated by offerings of blood.^ But great crimes can not be 
washed away; "For what expiation is there for blood when 
once it has fallen on the ground."' Thus the law {vo^oq) — for 
so it is expressly called — as from an Attic Sinai, rolls its rever- 
berating thunders, and pronounces its curses upon sin, from 
act to act and from chorus to chorus of that grand trilogy — 
the "Agamemnon," the " Choephoroe," and the "Eumenides." 

But after the law comes the gospel. First the controversy, 
then the reconciliation. A dim consciousness of sin and retri- 
bution as a fact, and of reconciliation as a wanty seems to have 
revealed itself even in the darkest periods of history. This 
consciousness underlies not a few of the Greek tragedies. 
"The * Prometheus Bound' was followed by the * Prometheus 
Unbound,' reconciled and restored through the intervention of 
Jove's son. The * CEdipus Tyrannus ' of Sophocles was com- 
pleted by the ' CEdipus Colonus,' where he dies in peace amid 
tokens of divine favor. And so the * Agamemnon ' and * Choe- 
phoroe ' reach their consummation only in the * Eumenides,' 
where the Erinyes themselves are appeased, and the Furies be- 
come the gracious ones. This is not, however, without a special 
divine interposition, and then only after a severe struggle be- 
tween the powers that cry for justice and those that plead for 
mercy." 

The office and work which, in this trilogy, is assigned to 
Jove's son, Apollo, must strike every reader as at least a re- 
markable resemblance, if not a foreshadowing of the Christian 
doctrine of reconciliation. "This becomes yet more striking 
when we bring into view the relation in which this reconciling 
work stands to Zevc ^tjrrjp, Jupiter Saviour — Zevg rpirog, Jupiter 

* " Sup.," 1. 227. ^ " Eum.," 1. 445 seq. ' " Choeph.," 1. 47. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 517 

the third, who, in connection with Apollo and Athena, consum- 
mates the reconciliation. Not only is Apollo a Sw7->/p, a Sav- 
iour, who, having himself been exiled from heaven among men, 
will pity the poor and needy -^ not only does Athena sympa- 
thize with the defendant at her tribunal, and, uniting the office 
of advocate and judge, persuade the avenging deities to be ap- 
peased f but Zeus is the beginning and end of the whole proc- 
ess. Apollo appears as the advocate of Orestes only at her 
bidding f Athena inclines to the side of the accused, as the 
offspring of the brain of Zeus, and of like mind with him."* 
Orestes, after his acquittal, says that he obtained it 

*' By means of Pallas and of Loxias 
And the third Saviour who doth all things sway."* 

Platonism reveals a still closer affinity with Christianity in its 
doctrine of sin, and its sense of the need of salvation. Plato 
is sacredly jealous for the honor and purity of the divine char- 
acter, and rejects with indignation every hypothesis which would 
make God the author of sin. " God, inasmuch as he is good, 
can not be the cause of all things, as the common doctrine 
represents him to be. On the contrary, he is the author of only 
a small part of human affairs ; of the larger part he is not the 
author ; for our evil things far outnumber our good things. 
The good things we must ascribe to God, whilst we must seek 
elsewhere, and not in him, the causes of evil."® The doctrine 
of the poets, which would in some way charge on the gods the 
errors of men, he sternly resists. " We must express our dis- 
approbation of Homer, or any other poet, if guilty of such fool- 
ish blunders about the gods as to tell us^ 

" * Fast by the threshold of Jove's court are placed 
Two casks, one stored with evil, one with good,' 

And that he for whom the Thunderer mingles both 

" ' He leads a life checker'd with good and ill.' 

^ " Sup.," 1. 214. "" " Eum.," 1. 970. ^ Ibid., 1. 616. * Ibid., 1. 664, 737. 
* Tyler's ** Theology of the Greek Poets," especially ch. v., from which 
the above materials are drawn. 

® " Republic," bk. ii. ch. xviii. ' ** Iliid," xxiv., 1. 660. 



5i8 CHRISTIANITT AND 

Nor can we let our young people know that, in the words of 

^schylus — 

" ' When to destruction God will plague a house 
He plants among the members guilt and sin.' "^ 

Whatever in the writings of Homer and the tragic poets gives 
countenance to the notion that God is, in the remotest sense, 
the author of sin, must be expunged. Here is clearly a great 
advance in ethical conceptions. 

The great defect in the ethical system of Plato was the 
identification of evil with the inferior or corporeal nature of 
man — " the irascible and concupiscible elements," fashioned by 
the junior divinities. The rational and immortal part of man's 
nature, which is derived immediately from God — the Supreme 
Good, naturally chooses the good as its supreme end and des- 
tination. Hence he adopted the Socratic maxim " that no man 
is willingly evil," that is, no man deliberately chooses evil as 
evil, but only as a seeming good — he does not choose evil as 
an end, though he may choose it voluntarily as a means. Plato 
manifests great solicitude to guard this maxim from miscon- 
ception and abuse. Man has, in his judgment, the power to 
act in harmony with his higher reason, or contrary to reason ; 
to obey the voice of conscience or the clamors of passion, and 
consequently he is the object of praise or blame, reward or 
punishment. "When a man does not consider himself, but 
others, as the cause of his own sins, and even seeks to ex- 
cuse himself from blame, he dishonors and injures his own 
soul ; so, also, when contrary to reason ... he indulges in pleas- 
ure, he dishonors it by filling it with vice and remorse."'* The 
work and effort of life, the end of this probationary economy, 
is to make reason triumphant over passion, and discipline our- 
selves to a purer and nobler life. 

The obstacles to a virtuous life are, however, confessedly 

numberless, and, humanly speaking, insurmountable. To raise 

one's self above the clamor of passion, the power of evil, the 

bondage of the flesh, is acknowledged, in mournful language, 

^ " Republic," bk. ii. ch. xviii., xix. ^ " Laws," bk. v. ch. i. 



GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 519 

to be a hopeless task. A cloud of sadness shades the brow of 
Plato as he contemplates the fallen state of man. In the 
" Phaedrus " he describes, in gorgeous imagery, the purity, and 
beauty, and felicity of the soul in its anterior and primeval 
state, when, charioteering through the highest arch of heaven 
in company with the Deity, it contemplated the divine justice 
and beauty ; but " this happy life," says he, " we forfeited by 
our transgression." Allured by strange affections, our souls 
forgot the sacred things that we were made to contemplate and 
love — wey^//. And now, in our fallen state, the soul has lost 
its pristine beauty and excellence. It has become more dis- 
figured than was Glaucus, the seaman "whose primitive form 
was not recognizable, so disfigured had he become by his long 
dwelling in the sea."^ To restore this lost image of the good, 
— to regain " this primitive form,'' is not the work of man, but 
God. Man can not save himself. "Virtue is not natural to 
man, neither is it to be learned, but it comes by a divine influ- 
ence. Virhie is the gift of God"'^ He needs a discipHne, " an 
education which is divine." If he is saved from the common 
wreck, it must be " by the special favor of Heaven."^ He must 
be delivered from sin, if ever delivered, by the interposition of 
God. 

Plato was, in some way, able to discover the need of a 
Saviour, to desire a Saviour, but he could not predict his 
appearing. Hints are obscurely given of a Conqueror of sin, 
an Assuager of pain, an Averter of evil in this life, and of the 
impending retributions of the future life j but they are exceed- 
ingly indefinite and shadowy. In all instances they are rather 
the language of desire, than of hope. Platonism awakened in 
the heart of humanity a consciousness of sin and a profound 
feeling of want — the want of a Redeemer from sin, a spiritual, 
a divine Remedy for its moral malady — and it strove after 
some remedial power. But it was equally conscious of failure 
and defeat. It could enlighten the reason, but it could only 

* " Republic," bk. x. ch. xi. 2 u Meno." 

^ " Republic," bk. vi. ch. vi., vii. 



520 



CHRISTIANITT AND 



act imperfectly on the will. Platonic was a striking counter- 
part to Pauline experience prior to the apostle's deliverance 
by the power and grace of Christ. It discovered that "the 
Law is holy, and the commandment is holy, and just, and 
good." 'It recognized that "it is spiritual, but man is carnal, 
the slave of sin." It could say, "What I do I approve not; 
for I do not what I would, but what I hate. But if my will 
[my better judgment] is against what I do, I consent unto the 
Law that it is good. And now it is no more I that do it, but 
sin, that dwelleth in me. For I know that in me, that is, in 
my flesh, good abideth not, for to will is present with me, but 
the power to do the right is absent : the good that I would, I 
do not; but the evil that I would not, that I do. I consent 
gladly to the law of God in my inner man [' the rational and 
immortal nature ''] ; but I behold a law in my members [' the 
irascible and concupiscible nature '^] warring against the law 
of my mind (or reason), and bringing me into captivity to the 
law of sin which is in my members. Oh wretched man that I 
am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?"^ Paul 
was able to say, " I thank God (that he hath now delivered me"), 
through Jesus Christ our Lord !" Platonism could only desire, 
and hope^ and wait for the coming of a Deliverer. 

This consciousness of the need of supernatural light and 
help, and this aspiration after a light supernatural and divine, 
which Plato inherited from Socrates, constrained him to regard 
with toleration, and even reverence, every apparent approach, 
every pretension, even, to a divine inspiration and guidance 
in the age in which he lived. " The greatest blessings which 
men receive come through the operation oi phrensy (fiavia — 
inspired exaltation), when phrensy is the gift of God. The 
prophetess of Delphi, and the priestess of Dodona, many are 
the benefits which in their phrensies (moments of inspiration) 
they have bestowed upon Greece ; but in their hours of self- 
possession, few or none. And too long were it to speak of 
the Sibyl, and others, who, inspired and prophetic, have deliv- 
' riato. ^ Ibid. ^ Romans, vii. 



GREEK PfflLOSOFHY. 52 1 

ered utterances beneficial to the hearers. Indeed, this word 
phrenetic or maniac is no reproach ; it is identical with mantic 
— prophetic.^ And often when diseases and plagues have 
fallen upon men for the sins of their forefathers, some phrensy 
too has broken forth, and in prophetic strain has pointed out 
a remedy, showing how the sin might be expiated^ and the gods 

appeased (by prayers, and purifications, and atoning rites) 

So many and yet more great effects could I tell you of the 
phrensy which comes from the gods."^ Some have discerned 
in all this merely the food for a feeble ridicule. They regard 
these sentiments as simply an evidence of the power and prev- 
alence of superstition clouding the loftiest intellects in ancient 
times. By the more thoughtful and philosophic mind, how- 
ever, they will be accepted as an indication of the imperishable 
and universal faith of humanity in a supernatural and super- 
sensuous world, and in the possibility of some communication 
between heaven and earth. ^ And above all, it is a conclusive 
proof that Plato believed that the knowledge of salvation — of 
a remed}^ for sin, a method of expiation for sin, a means of 
deliverance from the power and punishment of sin, must be 
revealed from Heaven. 

Paul, then, found, even in that focus of Paganism, the city 
of Athens, religious aspirations tending towards Jesus Christ. 
A true philosophic method, notwithstanding its shortcomings 
and imperfections, concluded by desiring and seeking "the 
Unknown God," by demanding him from all forms of worship, 
from all schools of philosophy. The great work of preparation 
in the heathen world consisted in the developing of the desire 
for salvation. It proved that God is the great want of every 
human soul ; that there is a profound affinity between con- 
science and the living God; and that Tertullian was right 

^ Mavm, phrensy ; uavrtg, a prophet — one who utters oracles in a state 
of divine phrensy ; fiavTLKrj, the prophetic art. 

^ ** Phsedrus," § 47-50 (Whewell's translation). 

^ " Vetus opinio est, jam usque ab heroicis ducta temporibus, eaque et 
populi Romani et omnium gentium firmata consensu, versari quandem inter 
homines divinationem." — Cicero, " De Divin.," i. i. 



522 CHRISTIANITY AND 

when he wrote the "Testimonium Animae naturaliter Chris- 
tianas.'" And when it was sufficiently demonstrated that "the 
world by philosophy knew not God (as a Redeeming God and 
Saviour), then it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching 
to save them that believe." This was all a dispensation of 
divine providence, which was determined by, or "in, the wis- 
dom of God."=' 

The history of the religions and philosophies of human 
origin thus becomes to us a striking confirmation of the truth 
of Christianity. It shows there is a wondrous harmony be- 
tween the instinctive wants and yearnings of the human heart, 
as well as the necessary ideas and laws of the reason, and the 
fundamental principles of revealed religion. There is " a law 
written on the heart" — written by the finger of God, which 
corresponds to the laws written by the same finger on " tables 
of stone." There are certain necessary and immutable prin- 
ciples and ideas infolded in the reason of man, which harmo- 
nize with the revelations of the Eternal Logos in the written 
word.^ There are instinctive longings, mysterious yearnings 
of the human heart, to which that unveiling of the heart of 
God which is made in the teaching and life of the incarnate 
God most satisfyingly answers. Within the depths of the hu- 
man spirit there is an " oracle " which responds to the voice of 
"the living oracles of God." 

Here, then, are two distinct and independent revelations — 
the unwritten revelation which God has made to all men in 
the constitution of the human mind, and the external written 
revelation which he has made in the person and teaching of 
his Son. And these two are perfectly harmonious. We have 
here two great volumes — the volume of conscience, and the 

^ Pressense, "Religions before Christ" (Introduction) ; Neander, " Church 
History," vol. i. (Introduction). 

^ I Corinthians, i. 21. 

^ " The surmise of Plato, that the world of appearance subsists in and by 
a higher world of Divine Thought, is confirmed lay Christianity when it tells 
us of a Divine subsistence — that Eternal Word by whom and in whom all 
things consist." — Vaughan, " Hours with the Mystics," vol. i. p.^2I3. 



GREEK PEILOSOPHY. 523 

volume of the New Testament. We open them, and find they 
announce the same truths — one in dim outline, the other in a 
full portraiture. There are the same fundamental principles 
underlying both revelations. They both bear the impress of 
divinity. The history of philosophy may have been marked 
by many errors of interpretation ; so, also, has the history of 
dogmatic theology. Men may have often misunderstood and 
misinterpreted the dictates of conscience ; so have theologians 
misunderstood and misinterpreted the dictates of revelation. 
The perversions of conscience and reason have been plead 
in defense of error and sin ; and so, for ages, have the per- 
versions of Scripture been urged in defense of slavery, oppres- 
sion, falsehood, and wrong. Sometimes the misunderstood 
utterances of conscience, of philosophy, and of science have 
been arrayed against the incorrect interpretations of the Word 
of God. But when both are better understood, and more 
justly conceived, they are found in wondrous harmony. When 
the New Testament speaks to man of God, of duty, of immor- 
tality, and of retribution, man feels that its teachings "com- 
mend themselves to his conscience" and reason. When it 
speaks to him of redemption, of salvation, of eternal life and 
blessedness, he feels that it meets and answers all the wants 
and longings of his heart. Thus does Christianity throw light 
upon the original revelations of God in the human conscience, 
and answers all the yearnings of the human soul. So it is 
found in individual experiences, so it has been found in the 
history of humanity. As Leverrier and Adams were enabled 
to affirm, from purely mathematical reasoning, that another 
planet must exist beyond Uranus which had never yet been 
seen by human eyes, and then, afterwards, that affirmation was 
gloriously verified in the discovery of Neptune by the telescope 
of Galle ; so the reasonings of ancient philosophy, based on 
certain necessary laws of mind, enabled man to affirm the ex- 
istence of a God, of the soul, of a future retribution, and an 
eternal life beyond the grave ; and, then, subsequently, these 
were brought fully into light, and verified by the Gospel. 



524 CHRISTIANITY AND OBEEK PHILOSOPHY. 

We conclude in the words of Pressense : " To isolate it from 
the past, would be to refuse to comprehend the nature of Chris- 
tianity itself, and the extent of its triumphs. Although the 
Gospel is not, as has been affirmed, the product of anterior civ- 
ilizations — a mere compound of Greek and Oriental elements 
— it is not the less certain that it brings to the human mind 
the satisfaction vainly sought by it in the East as in the West. 
Ojnnia subito is not its device, but that of the Gnostic heresy. 
Better to say, with Clement of Alexandria and Origen, that the 
night of paganism had its stars to light it, but that they called 
to the Morning-star which stood over Bethlehem." 

" If we regard philosophy as a preparation for Christianity, 
instead of seeking in it a substitute for the Gospel, we shall not 
need to overstate its grandeur in order to estimate its real 
value." 



CONTENTS 



Abstraction, comparative and immediate, 
187-189 ; S62-364. 

iEschylus, his conception of the Supreme 
Divinity, 146 ; his recognition of human 
guilt, and need of expiation, 515-517. 

etiological proof of the existence of God, 
487-489. 

Anaxagoras, an Eclectic, 311 ; in his phys- 
ical theory an Atomist, 312 ; taught that 
the Order of the universe can only he ex- 
plained by Intelligence, 312 ; his psychol- 
ogy, 313 ; the teacher of Socrates, 313. 

Anaximander, his first principle the infi- 
nite, 290 ; his infinite a chaos of primary 
elements, 290. 

Anaximenes, a vitalist, 286 ; his first prin- 
ciple air, 287. 

Aristotle, his opinion of the popular poly- 
theism of Greece, 157 ; his classification 
of causes, 280, 404, 405 ; his misrepresen- 
tations of Pythagoras, 299 ; his classifica- 
tion of the sciences, 389 ; his Organon, 
389-394 ; his Logic, 394^403 : his Theolo- 
gy, 404-417; his Ethics, 417-421; his Cat- 
egories, 395 ; his logical treatises, 396 ; 
on induction and deduction, 396-598 ; his 
psychology, 398, 401 ; on how the knowl- 
edge of first principles is attained, 394, 
402, 403 ; on Matter and Form, 405-408 ; 
on Potentiality and Actuality, 408-412 ; 
his proof of the Divine existence, 412-415; 
on the chief good of man, 419, 420 ; his 
doctrine of the Mean, 420, 421 ; defect of 
his ethical system, 505. 

'Apxai, or first principles, the grand object 
of investigation in Greek Philosophy, 271, 
274,279,280. 

Athenians, criticism on Plutarch's sketch 
of their character, 45 ; their vivacity, 45; 
love of freedom, 46— and of country, 46 ; 



private life of, 47 ; intellectual character 
of, 48 ; inquisitive and analytic, 48 ; rare 
combinations of imagination and reason- 
ing powers, 49 ; religion of, 98 ; the Athe- 
nians a religious people, 102 ; their faith 
in the being and providence of God, 107 ; 
their consciousness of dependence on 
God, 110, 116 ; their religious emotions, 
117 ; their deep consciousness of sin and 
guilt, 122-124 ; their sense of the need of 
expiation, 124, 125 ; their religion exert- 
ed some wholesome moral infiueuce, 162, 
163. 

Athens, topography of, 27 ; the Agora, 28 ; 
its porticoes, 29 ; the Acropolis, 30 ; its 
temples, 31 ; the Areopagus, 33 ; sacred 
objects in, 98, 99 ; images of the gods, 99 ; 
localities of schools of philosophy in, 
266-268. 

Attica, geographical boundaries of, 26; a 
classic land, 34 ; its geographical and cos- 
mical conditions providentially ordained 
for great moral ends, 34, 35 ; soil of, not 
favorable to agriculture, 40— necessitated 
industry and frugality, 41 ; the climate 
of, 41— its influence on the mental char- 
acter of the people, 42. 

B. 

Bacon, his assertion that the search after 
final causes had misled scientific in- 
quirers, 222. 

C. 

Categories of Aristotle, 395. 

Causality, principle of, 189 ; assailed by the 
Materialists, 194 — especially by Comte, 
203-209 ; the intuition of power a fact 
of immediate consciousness, 204 ; con- 
sciousness of effort the type of all force, 



526 



CONTENTS. 



211 ; Aristotle on Cansality, 413 ; aetiolog- 
ical proof of existence of God, 487-4S9. 

Cause, origin of the idea of, 204, 205. 

Causes, Aristotle's classification of, 280, 
404, 405. 

Chief good of man, Aristotle on, 419, 420. 

Cleanthes, his hymn to Jupiter, 452, 453. 

Comte, his theory of the origin of religion, 
57-65; his doctrine that all knowledge 
is confined to material phenomena, 203 ; 
denies all causation, both efficient and 
final, 203-214. 

Conditioned, law of the, 227, 228 ; is contra- 
dictory, 250 ; as a ground of faith, mean- 
ingless and void, 251. 

Cosmological proof of the existence of God, 
489, 490. 

Cousin, his theory that religion had its out- 
birth in the spontaneous apperceptions 
of reason, 78-84 ; criticism thereon, 84-86. 

Criterion of truth, Plato's search after, 333, 
334. 

Cudworth, his interpretation of Grecian 
mythology, 139, 143. 

Cuvier, on final causes, 216, 222. 



D. 



Darwin, his inability to explain the facts 
of nature without recognizing design, 
221, 222. 

Democritus, taught that atoms and the 
vacuum are the beginning of all things, 
292 ; an absolute materialist, 293. 

Dependence, consciousness of, the founda- 
tion of primary religious emotions, 110- 
113. 

Development, law of mental, 478; three 
successive stages clearly marked, in the 
individual, 478— in the imiversal mind of 
humanity, 479, 480 ; (1) in the field of The- 
istic conceptions, 481^94 ; (2) in the de- 
partment of morals, 495-509 ; (3) in the 
department of religious sentiment, 509- 
522. 

Dialectic of Plato, 353-369. 

Dogmatic Theologians, assert that all our 
knowledge of God is derived from the 
teaching of the Scriptures, 86, 167 ; cast 
doubt upon the principle of causality, 
253-255— upon the principle of the uncon- 
ditioned, 255-257— upon the principle of 
unity, 258-261— and upon the immutable 
principles of morality, 2G1-263. 

Dynamical or Vital school of ancient phi- 
losophers, 282-289. 



E. 



Eclecticism of Anaxagoras, 311. 

Emotions, the religious, 117-122; senti- 
ment of the Divine exists in all minds, 
119-121 ; also instinctive yearning after 
the Invisible, 121, 122. 

Empedocles, a believer in one Supreme 
God, 153. 

Epicurus, his theory of the origin of relig- 
ion, 56, 57 ; his Ethics, 427-432 ; his Phys- 
ics, 433-438 ; taught that pleasure is the 
chief end of life, 428 — that ignorance of 
nature is the sole cause of unhappiness, 
432~that Physics and Psychology are the 
only studies conducive to happiness, 432 
— that the universe is eternal and infinite, 
433— that concrete bodies are combina- 
tions of atoms, 434 — that atoms have 
spontaneity, 436, and some degree of free- 
dom, 436, 437 ; the parts of the world self- 
formed, 437, 438; plants, animals, and 
man are spontaneously generated, 438 ; 
a state of savagism the primitive con- 
dition of man, 439 ; his Atheism, 441 ; his 
Psychology, 442-444 ; the soul material 
and mortal, 445, 446. 

Eternity, Platonic notion of, 349 {note), 372, 
373. 

Eternity of Matter, how taught by Plato, 
371-373 ; distinctly affirmed by Epicurus, 
433. 

Eternity of the Soul, Plato's doctrine of, 
373-375. 

Ethical ideas and principles, gradual de- 
velopment ot, 495, 496 ; (1) the age of pop- 
ular and unconscious morals, 497, 498 ; (2) 
the transitional or sophistical age, 498- 
500 ; (3) the philosophic or conscious age, 
500-506. 

Ethics of Plato, 383-387, 502-505 ; of Aris- 
totle, 417^21 ; of Epicurus, 427-432 ; of 
the Stoics, 454-456. 

Expiation for sin, the need of, 124; uni- 
versally acknowledged, 124 — especially 
in Grecian mythology, 125 — and in the 
language of Greece and Rome, 125. 

F. 

Facts of the universe, classification of, 175- 
177. 

Fathers, the early, recognized the propae- 
deutic office of Greek philosophy, 473-475. 

Feeling, theories which ground all religion 
on, 70-74; its inadequacy, 74r-78. 



CONTENTS. 



527 



Final Causes, impossibility of interpreting 
nature without recognizing, 221, 222 ; the 
assumption of final causes a means of 
discovery, 222, 223 ; Cuvier on, 216, 222 ; 
argument of Socrates from, 320-324 ; Pla- 
to on, 380-382; Aristotle on, 405, 413, 414; 
teleological proof of the existence of 
God, 490, 491. 

Force, the idea of, rejected by Comte, 207. 

Forces, all of one type, and that type mind, 
211. 

Freedom, human, 19 ; exists under limita- 
tions, 20 ; both admitted and denied by 
Comte, 208, 209 ; of Will, as taught by 
Plato, 386, 387 ; admitted by Epicurus, 
436. 

G. 

Geoffroy St. Hilaire, his pretense of not as- 
cribing any intentions to nature, 216, 
217. 

Geography and History, relations between, 
14 ; opposite theories concerning, 15 ; 
theory of Buckle, 16— of Hitter, Guyot, 
and Cousin, 16 ; the relation one of ad- 
justment and harmony, 16. 

God, universality of idea of. 89 ; Athenians 
believed in one God, 107, 147, 143 ; idea 
of God a common phenomenon of human 
intelligence, 168, 169; the development 
of this idea dependent on experience con- 
ditions, 169-172 ; the phenomena of the 
universe demand a God for their expla- 
nation, 172-175 ; there are principles re- 
vealed in consciousness which necessi- 
tate the idea of God, 184-189 ; proofs of 
the existence of God employed by Ar- 
istotle, 412-416 — by Socrates, 320-324; 
views of God entertained by the Stoics, 
452, 453 ; logical proofs of the existence 
of God developed by Greek philosophy, 
487^94 ; gradual development of Theis- 
tic conception, 481-487. 

Gods of Grecian Mythology, how regarded 
by the philosophers, 151-157 ; views of 
Plato regarding them, 383. 

Great men, represent the spirit of their age, 
20 ; the creation of a providence inter- 
posing in history, 21. 

Greece, its geographical relations favorable 
to free intercourse with the great historic 
nations, 35— to commerce, 36— to the dif- 
fusion of knowledge, 36 — and to a high 
degree of civilization, 36 ; peculiar con- 
figuration of Greece conducive to activity 
and freedom, 36-38 — and independence, 



38 ; natural scenery, 43— its influence on 
imagination and taste, 44. 

Greek Civilization, a preparation for Chris- 
tianity, 465-468. 

Greek Language, a providentially prepared 
vehicle for the perfect revelation of Chris- 
tianity, 468-470. 

Greek Philosophy, first a philosophy of 
Nature, 271, 281, 282 ; next a philosophy 
of Mind, 271, 316-318 ; lastly a philosophy 
of Life, 271, 422 ; prepared the way for 
Christianity, 457-522. 

Greeks, the masses of the people believed 
in one Supreme God, 147, 148. 

Guilt, consciousness of, a universal fact, 
122, 123 ; recognized in Grecian mythol- 
ogy, 123, 124 ; awakened and deepened 
by philosophy, 513-518. 



H. 



Hamilton, Sir W., teaches that philosophic 
knowledge is the knowledge of effects as 
dependent on causes, 224, 225; and of 
qualities as inherent in substances, 225, 
226 ; and yet asserts all human knowl- 
edge is necessarily confined to phenome- 
na, 227 ; his doctrine of the relativity of 
all knowledge, 227, 229-236 ; his philos- 
ophy of the conditioned, 228 ; conditional 
limitation the law of all thought, 236-242 ; 
the Infinite a mere negation of thought, 
242-246 ; asserts we must believe in the 
infinity of God, 246 ; takes refuge in faith, 
247 ; faith grounded on the law of the 
conditioned, 24S, 249— that is, on contra- 
diction, 249, 250. 

Hegel, his philosophy of religion, 65-70. 

Heraclitus, his first principle ether, 288 ; 
change, the universal law of all exist- 
ence, 288 ; a Materialistic Pantheist, 
289. 

Hesiod, on the generation of the gods, 142. 

Homer-, his conception of Zeus, 144, 145. 

Homeric doctrine of sin, 513, 514. 

Homeric theology, 143-145, 509, 510. 

Humanity, fundamental ideas and laws of, 
18 ; developed and modified by exterior 
conditions, 19 ; the most favorable con- 
ditions existed in Athen 



Idealism, furnishes no adequate explana- 
tion of the common belief in an external 
world, 198, 199— and of a personal self, 



528 



CONTENTS. 



200-202; Cosmothetic Idealism, 305 ; ab- 
solute Idealism, 305. 

Ideas, Platonic doctrine of, 334-337; Pla- 
tonic scheme of, 364-367, 

Images of the gods, how regarded by Cice- 
ro, 129— by Plutarch, 129 ; the heathens 
apologized for the use of images, 159. 

Immortality of the soul, taught by Socra- 
tes, 324— and by Plato, 375, 376; denied 
by Epicurus, 444-446. 

Incarnation, the idea of, not unfamiliar to 
heathen thought, 512. 

Induction, the psychological method of Pla- 
to, 356, 357. 

Induction and Deduction, Aristotle on, 397, 
398. 

Infinite, the, not a mere negation of 
thought, 242-244 ; known as the necessa- 
ry correlative of the finite, 245 ; as com- 
prehensible in itself, as the finite is com- 
prehensible in itself, 246 ; in what sense 
known, 252. 

Infinite Series, the phrase, when literally 
construed, a contradiction, 181, 182. 

Infinity, qualitative and quantitative, 239 ; 
qualitative infinity possessed by God 
alone, 184, 239. 

Intentionality, principle of, 190 ; denied by 
Materialists, 194 ; a first law of thought, 
221-223 ; recognized by Socrates, 320-324. 

Ionian School of Philosophy, a physical 
and sensational school, 281 ; subdivided 
into Mechanical and Dynamical, 282, 283. 

Italian School of Philosophy, an Idealist 
school, 281 ; subdivided into the Mathe- 
matical and Metaphysical, 282, 296. 



J. 



Jacobi, his faith-philosophy, 71. 



K. 



Knowledge, Hamilton's doctrine of rela- 
tivity of, 229-236; opposite theories of 
knowledge among ancient philosophers, 
330, 331 ; the tendency of these theories, 
832 ; Plato's theory of, 333, 334 ; Plato's 
science of real knowledge, 337, 338. 



Language, inadequate to convey the idea 
of God, 92-94 ; Greek language the best 
medium for the Christian revelation, 468- 
470. 



Leucippus, his first principles atoms and 
space, 291 ; a pure Materialist, 292. 

Logic of Aristotle, 394-403. 

Logical Treatises of Aristotle, 395, 396. 

Lucretius, the expounder of the doctrines 
of Epicurus, 426, 427 : his account of the 
origin of worlds, 437, 438 ; of plants, ani- 
mals, and man, 438. 



M. 

Mansel, bases religion on feeling of de- 
pendence, 72— and sense of obligation, 
73. 

Materialists deny the principle of causality, 
194, 203— and of intentionality or final 
cause, 211-225; Anaximander, Leucip- 
pus, and Democritus belong to the ma- 
terialistic school, 286-293; Epicurus a 
materialist, 442^46. 

Mathematical Infinite, not absolute, 179, 
180; capable of exact measurement, 
therefore limited, 180; infinite sphere, 
radius, line, etc., self-contradictory, 180, 
181. 

Matter, did Plato teach the eternity of? 
371-373 ; the doctrine of the Stoics con- 
cerning matter, 449 {note). 

Matter and Form, Aristotle on, 405-408. 

Mean, Aristotle's doctrine of the, 420. 

Mediator, consciousness of the need of a, 
awakened by Greek philosophy, 509-513. 

Metaphysical thought, law of its develop- 
ment, 478^180 ; three diff'erent stages in 
the individual mind, 478, 479 ; and in the 
universal consciousness of our race, 479. 

Metempsychosis, regarded by Plato as a 
mere hypothesis, 376 {note). 

Mill, J. S., his doctrine that all knowledge 
is confined to mental phenomena, 193 ; 
his definition of matter, 196 ; his views 
of personal identity, 196, 197 ; his theo- 
logical opinions, 197. 

Miracles, not designed to prove the exist- 
ence of God, 95. 

Moral principles, universal and immuta- 
ble, which lead to the recognition of a 
God, 190 ; the Dogmatic Theologians seek 
to invalidate the argument therefrom, 
261-263. 

Mystics, base all religions knowledge on 
internal feeling, 70. 

Mythology, philosophy of Greek, 134-139 ; 
Cudworth's interpretation of, 139-143; 
recognized the consciousness of guilt and 
need of expiation, 123-125. 



CONTENTS. 



529 



N. 



National Character, a complex result, 17 ; 
conjoint eflect of moral and physical in- 
fluences, 17 ; human freedom not to be 
disregarded in the study of, 20 ; influence 
of geographical surroundings, 23 — of cli- 
mate and natural scenery, on the pursuits 
and mental character of nations, 23 — on 
creative art, 24— and literature of nations, 
25. 

Nations, individuality of, 22 ; determined 
mainly from without, 22. 

Natural Eealism, 305 ; Anaxagoras a natu- 
ral realist, 311-313. 

Nature, interpreted by man according to 
fundamental laws of his reason, 133. 



O. 

Obligation, the sense of, lies at the founda- 
tion of religion, 115. 

Ontological proof of the existence of God, 
491-493. 

Ontology, of Plato, 369-379 ; the subject- 
matter of the world of sense, 370-373 ; the 
permanent substratum of mental phe- 
nomena, 373-376 ; the first Principle of 
all principles— God, 377-379, 491-493. 

Optimism of Plato, 382. 

Order of the Universe, had it a beginning, 
or is it eternal ? 178-184. 

Order, principle of, pervades the universe, 
220, 221 ; recog-nized by Pythagoras, 301 ; 
Cosmological proof of the existence of 
God. 489, 490. 



P. 

Parmenides, his theory of knowledge, 
307-308 ; a spiritualistic Pantheist, 308, 
309. 

Paul, St, at Athens, 14 ; his emotion when 
he saw the city full of idols, 100 ; the sub- 
ject of his discourse, 101 ; brought into 
contact with all the phases of philosophic 
thought, 268, 269 ; his arrival at Athens 
an epoch in the moral history of the 
world, 472 ; he recognized the prepara- 
tory office of Greek philosophy, 473. 

Philosophers of Athens, 101 ; believed in 
one supreme, uncreated, eternal God, 
151-157 ; their views of the mythological 
deities, 158, 159 ; their apologies for im- 
ages and image-worship, 159, 160. 

Philosophic Schools, classification of, 271- 



273 ; Pre-Socratic, 280-314 ; Socratic, 314- 
421 ; Post-Socratic, 422-456. 

Philosophy, the world-enduring monument 
of the glory of Athens, 265, 266 ; defined, 
270, 271 ; an inquiry after first causes and 
principles, 271, 457 ; not in any proper 
sense a theological inquiry, 273-277, 279 ; 
the love of wisdom, 384, 385. 

Philosophy iu its relation to Christianity, 
268-270; sympathy of Platonism, 268; 
antagonism of Epicureanism and Stoi- 
cism, 269 ; the Propaedeutic office of phi- 
losophy, 457-524— recognized by St. Paul, 
473— and many of the early Fathers, 473- 
475 ; philosophy undermined Polytheism, 
and purified the Theistic idea, 481-487 ; 
developed the Theistic argument in a 
logical form, 487^94 ;. it awakened Con- 
science and purified the Ethical idea, 495- 
506 ; demonstrated the insufficiency of 
reason to elaborate a perfect ideal of 
moral excellence, 506-509 ; awakened iu 
man the sense of distance from God, and 
the need of a Mediator, 509-513 ; deep- 
ened the consciousness of sin, and the de- 
sire for aEedeemer, 513-522 ; the history 
of philosophy a confirmation of the trath 
of Christianity, 522-524. 

Philosophy of Eeligion, 53 ,* based on the 
correlation between Divine and human 
reason, 458^62. 

Plato, condemns the poets for their un- 
worthy representations of the gods, 130- 
132 ; his views of the gods of Grecian my- 
thology, 154-157: the sympathy of his 
philosophy with Christianity, 268: fol- 
lowed the philosophic method of Socra- 
tes, 328 ; his moral qualifications for the 
study of philosophy, 328, 329 ; his lite- 
rary qualifications, 329, 330 ; his search 
after a criterion of truth, 333, 334; his 
doctrine of Ideas, 334-337 ; his science of 
real knowledge, 337, 338 ; his answer to 
the question. What is Science ? 338, 339 ; 
his Psychology 339-352 ; his sclieme of 
the intellectual powers, 345 ; on the na- 
ture of the soul, 350 ; his dialectic, 353- 
369 ; his grand scheme of ideas, 364-367 ; 
his Ontology, 369-379; on the creation 
of time, 372 ; did he teach that matter is 
eternal ? 371, 372 ; on the eternity of the 
rational element of the soul, 373-375; on 
the immortality of the soul, 375, 376 ; on 
God as the First Principle of all princi- 
ples, 377-379 ; his Physics, 380-383 ; his 
Ethics, 383-387, 502-505; defects of his 



34 



530 



CONTENTS. 



ethical system, 518 ; his philosophy not 
derived from Jewish sources, 476; felt 
the need of a superhuman deliverer from 
sin and guilt, 519-521. 

Plutarch, his sketches of Athenian charac- 
ter, 44 ; criticism on, 45 ; on the univer- 
sality of prayer and sacrifice, 115. 

Poets, the Greek, believed in the existence 
of one uncreated Mind, 141 ; their the- 
ogony veas a cosmogony, 142 ; the theo- 
logians of Greece, 274, 275. 

Polytheism, Greek, a poetico-historical re- 
ligion of myth and symbol, 134 ; its im- 
moralities, 160, 161 ; undermined by Phi- 
losophy, 484-4S7. 

Post-Socratic Schopls, classification of, 425; 
a philosophy of life, 422^24. 

Potentiality and Actuality, Aristotle on, 
408-^12. 

Prayer, natural to man, 115. 

Preparation for Christianity, not confined 
to Judaism alone, 464, 465 ; Greek civil- 
ization also prepared the way for Christ, 
465-468 ; Greek language a providential 
development as the vehicle of a more per- 
fect revelation, 468-470 ; Greek philoso- 
phy fulfilled a propaedeutic ofiice, 470- 
472. 

Pre-Socratic Schools, classification of, 280- 
282; 295,296. 

Principles, imiversal mid necessary, how at- 
tained by the method of Plato, 361-364, 
390; how, by the method of Aristotle, 
390-394, 402, 403. 

Psychological analysis, logical demonstra- 
tion of the existence of God begins with, 
170 ; reveals principles which in their 
logical development attain to the knowl- 
edge of God, 184-189. 

Psychology of Heraclitus, 289 ; of Pythag- 
oras, 304 ; of Parraenides, 307, 308 ; of 
Anaxagoras, 313 ; of Protagoras, 315 ; of 
Socrates, 317,318; of Plato, 339-352; of 
Aristotle, 392, 398-401 ; of Epicurus, 442- 
444 ; of the Stoics, 453, 454. 

Pythagoras, his doctrine that numbers are 
the first principles of things, 297 ; how to 
be interpreted, 297-304; misrepresented 
by Aristotle, 298-300 ; psychology of, 304. 



Reason, iusuflBciency of, to elaborate a per- 
fect ideal of moral excellence, 506-609. 

Redemption, desire of, awakened and de- 
fined by Greek philosophy, 513-521. 



Relativity of all knowledge, Hamilton's 
doctrine of, 229-236. 

Religion, the philosophy of, 53 ; defined, 
53, 106 ; universality of religious phenom- 
ena, 54 ; hypothesis offered in explana- 
tion of, 55 ; h)rpothesis of Epicurus and 
Comte, 56-65— of Hegel, 65-70— of Jacobi 
and Schleiermacher, 70-78— of Cousin, 
78-86- of Dogmatic Theologians, 86-96— 
author's theory, 96, 97 ; religion of the 
Athenians, 98— its mythological and sym- 
bolic aspects, 128 — exerted some whole- 
some influences, 161-163. 

Reminiscence, Plato on, 354, 355. 

Revelation, progressive, 462^64 ; harmony 
of the two revelations in the volume of 
conscience and the volume of the New 
Testament, 522-524. 



Sacrifice, universal prevalence of, 115, 124; 
prompted by the universal consciousness 
of guilt, 126 ; expiatory sacrifices ground- 
ed on a primitive revelation, 127. 

Schleiermacher, his theory that all religion 
is grounded on the feeling of absolute 
dependence, 71, 72. 

Science, Plato's answer to the question. 
What is Science ? S38, 339. 

Self-determination, limited by idea of duty, 
113 ; implies accountability, 114 ; recog- 
nizes a Lawgiver and Judge, 115. 

Socrates, his desire for truth, 316 ; his das- 
mon, 317 {note) ; his philosophic method, 
818, 319 ; a believer in one Supreme God, 
320 ; his argument for the existence of 
God from final causes, 320-324 ; his be- 
lief in immortality and a future retribu- 
tion, 324, 325 ; his Ethics, 325 ; the great 
prophet of the human conscience, 500- 
502. 

Socratic School, 314. 

Sophists, 315, 316 ; their skeptical tenden- 
cy, 315 ; their defective ethics, 498, 499. 

Sophocles, believed in one Supreme God, 
147. 

Soul, Plato on the nature of the, 350, 373 ; 
eternity of the rational element, 373- 
375. 

Spencer, H., carries the law of the Con- 
ditioned forward to its logical conse- 
quences, Atheism, 241, 242. 

Stoical School, 446 ; its philosophy a moral 
philosophy, 447. 

Stoics, their Physiology, 448^53; their 



CONTENTS. 



531 



Psychology, 453, 454 ; their Ethics, 454- 
45G ; their Theology, 452, 453. 

Substance, principle of, 189 ; Idealism seeks 
to undermine it, 193 ; Reason affirms a 
permanent substance as the ground of 
aU mental phenomena, 201— and of the 
phenomena of the sensible world, 202,203. 

Sufficient Reason, law of, recognized by 
Plato, 359. 

Superstition, meaning of the term as used 
by Paul, 108. 



Teleological proof of the existence of God, 
490, 491. 

Thales, a believer in one uncreated God, 
152 ; his first principles, 283 ; he regards 
water as the material cause, 284 ; and God 
as the efficient cause, 285. 

Theistic argument, in its logical form, 487- 
494. 

Theistic conception, gradual development 
of, 481^84. 

Theological opinions of the early periods 
of Greek civilization, 150, 151 ; 276-2T8. 

Theology of Aristotle, 404-417; identical 
with Metaphysics, 404, 416. 

Theology of the Greek poets, 143-151 ; pro- 
posed reform of Poetry by Plato, 131, 132. 

Thinking, conditionality of, 228 ; in what 
sense to be understood, 237; thought 
imposes no limits upon the object of 
thought, 237, 238. 

Thought, negative and positive, 242, 243 ; 
negative thought an impossibility, 243 ; 
all thought must be positive, 243. 

Time, Platonic notion of, 371, 372. 

Tragedians, the Greek, were the public re- 
ligious teachers of the Athenians, 145 ; 
their theology, 146, 147 ; influence of the 
religious dramas on the Athenian mind, 
161-163 ; guiltiness of man, and need of 
reconciliation confessed by, 515-517. 



U. 



Unconditioned, principle of, 189 ; assailed 
by Hamilton, 194. 

Unity of God, 259 ; an affirmation of rea- 
son, 259-261 ; Xenophanes taught the 
unity of God, 307— also Parmenides, 309 
—and Plato, 377— and Aristotle, 415. 

Unity, principle of, 189 ; attempt of Dog- 
matic Theologians to prove its insuffi- 



ciency, 194, 258-261 ; recognized by Py- 
thagoras, 296 ; his effort to reduce all the 
phenomena of nature to a Unity, 303, 
304. 

Universal and necessary Principles, classi- 
fication of, 189, 190 : these the foundation 
of our cognition of a God, 191 ; how at- 
tained according to Plato, 360-364 ; how 
by the method of Aristotle, 390-394, 402, 
403. 

Universe, the, is it finite or infinite ? 178- 
184 ; Epicurus teaches that it is infinite, 
433. 

Unknown God, the true God, 104 ; God not 
absolutely unknown, 107-110 ; classifica- 
tion of opponents to the doctrine that 
God can be cognized by reason, 166-168 ; 
Idealist School of Mill, 194-203 ; Materi- 
alistic School of Comte, 203-223 ; Ham- 
iltonian School, 224-252 ; School of Dog- 
matic Theologians, 252-263. 

W. 

Watson, Richard, represents the views of 
Dogmatic Theologians, 86 ; asserts that 
all our religious knowledge is derived 
from oral revelation, 86-88, 167 ; incom- 
pleteness and inadequacy of this theory, 
88-96 ; in vindicating for the Scriptures 
the honor of revealing all our knowledge 
of God, he casts doubt upon the principle 
of Causality, 253-255 — on the principle of 
the Unconditioned, 255-257— on the prin- 
ciple of Unity, 258-261— and on the im- 
mutable principles of Morality, 261-263. 

Wordsworth, on the sentiment of the Di- 
vine, 118. 



Xenophanes, his attack on Polytheism, 
130 ; his faith in one God, 153, 306, 307. 

Z. 

Zeno of Citium, the founder of the Stoical 

School, 446 ; a Spiritualistic Pantheist, 

450, 451. 
Zeno of Elea, maintained the doctrine of 

Absolute Identity, 309. 
Zeus, originally the Supreme and only God 

of the Greeks, 143 ; the Homeric Zeus, 

the Supreme God, 144, 145. 



THE END. 



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